She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. ” She batted his arms and slapped him, angrily twisting from his grasp. She was trying to bring her problems to a head, and her mind insisted upon being even more discursive and atmospheric than usual. I’m a hard young woman.
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