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. I want my freedom. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. ” “You didn’t. “I will not intrude upon you further. “I remember when you walked me home. But we cannot discuss this here. The period of repression was over. . Good night.
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