She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Why do you not go away?’ ‘Yes, do go away,’ begged Gerald. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations.
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