On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. “If I was the world I think I should have put down a crimson carpet, and asked you to say what you wanted, and generally walk over me. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open.
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