“We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. 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. " Three persons only were left in the room. Capes kept obstinately stiff, and spoke between his teeth. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch.
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