I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. “Parmesan—take it away!” He glanced at Ann Veronica’s face, and it seemed to him that she really was exceptionally radiant.
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