“I am going to America. But for me it doesn’t matter. ” She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. She had heard Alice talking and crying at the same time, a painful noise. 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. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. "Yes," answered the girl.
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