She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal object. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.
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