"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. ’ I said. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. I married—I married a woman whom I still think one of the most beautiful persons in the world. It was her distinctive test of an emotional state, its interference with a kindly normal digestion. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. 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. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. "An idea has just occurred to me," said Gay, "which Jack's narrative has suggested.
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