"Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. 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. Lose no time. It appeared highly probable to her that he would stop her allowance. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well.
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