She cried out with the pain of it. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. She hated living like that. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. "Oh! you men! you men! Once get a thing into your head, and nothing will beat it out. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience.
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