It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. ‘It is to say goodbye, you understand. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters.
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