Bête, she told herself fiercely. The image of Major Alderley came into her mind. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. That’s probably true. " As he said this, in a low and mournful, but firm voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's dark eyelashes. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited for news. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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