For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. ‘Ah, the tragedy. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille.
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