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Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. This at once thrilled her and worried her. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. “I suppose things have changed?” she said. "Hope to. And that’s why I’m at your service. “Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. “I must live, you know. Everybody looked askance at everybody else. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. " "Do not speak of it," rejoined Thames, with a look of horror. I’ve had it, Sheila.
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