" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth. They sat in the front row. Wood. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear.
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