She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. 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. I’m in this apartment and looking for work because—Well, what else can I do, when my father practically locks me up?” “I know,” said Mr.
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