Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. ” He glared at Martin. 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. It drives one mad at times.
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