“Good evening, Dorling,” he said. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. . She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. “Really,” she said.
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