His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the imposters. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. "I wonder if you will understand what this kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise—and so wofully ignorant!" CHAPTER XII The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his elbow. " "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone.
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