That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. “I will MAKE you love me! Until he has faded—faded into a memory.
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