Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. You heard her. "Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. “The city of Athens was more glorious then any city 197 ever before it and no city has ever rivaled it since. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals.
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