The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. I shall quit this roof to-morrow. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. . It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. "Very well. You must let me do whatever I can for you.
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