Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. "Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance upon him," said Quilt. ” Lucy had not touched Sebastian or made love to him in years. Gone were the old days where an old maid banged on an upright piano above a roaring crowd, this sound was loud enough to be heard outside the building, she thought to herself as her eardrums throbbed. There was nothing to be learned from her face. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. Hang the wench! Roding was right. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly.
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