Part 4 Interpretation came pouring down upon her almost blindingly; she understood now the room, the waiter, the whole situation. "Your faults were the faults of circumstances. Too damned chickenhearted to confess to me he’d run off with the woman. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own.
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