That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. ‘And nnever would you have f-found it. There’s no logic in these things. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. It was then, I am sure, empty. There's something human about you now. "There!" cried Mrs. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion.
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