"I thought I heard a noise. ” The man’s face was dark with passion. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. She crept behind the open door and pounced on him when he came out of the bathroom, knocking him onto the floor with a loud thud. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. She dumped him because she claimed she didn’t want him to go any farther. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive.
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