Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. There was, in fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached the hotel without falling down.
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