Upon this grateful animal she lavished that affection which was subtly repelled by its lawful object. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. I'll tell you what. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. A white man takes his life in his hands. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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