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. " "There you're wrong, Mr. ’ ‘I didn’t say I did not enjoy it,’ Gerald protested. “Call me Cathy, John. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. ” She felt humiliated.
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