In a living room he stood by the door regarding her with a sort of
stupefied horror as she rattled on.... His predominant sensation was
that all the civilization and convention around him was curiously
unreal.... She was in a milliner's shop on Sixth Avenue, she said. It
was a lonesome life. She had been sick for a long while after he left
for Camp Mills; her mother had come down and taken her home again to
Carolina.... She had come to New York with the idea of finding Anthony.
She was appallingly in earnest. Her violet eyes were red with tears; her
soft intonation was ragged with little gasping sobs.
That was all. She had never changed. She wanted him now, and if she
couldn't have him she must die....
"You'll have to get out," he said at length, speaking with tortuous
intensity. "Haven't I enough to worry me now without you coming here? My
_God_! You'll have to get _out!"_
Sobbing, she sat down in a chair.
"I love you," she cried; "I don't care what you say to me! I love you."
"I don't care!" he almost shrieked; "get out--oh, get out! Haven't you
done me harm enough? Haven't--you--done--_enough?"_
"Hit me!" she implored him--wildly, stupidly.
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