132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. " "A day of retribution will assuredly arrive," rejoined Mrs. Now, do what you please. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. 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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