There was about her the look of somber terror, just verging on
panic, which you have seen in a child's face when he has been sent
up-stairs to bed alone in the dark.
Fragments of Galbraith's talk came back to her. It was by ceasing to be
her lover and her partner that he had become her friend. Rodney, it
seemed from his letters, was becoming her friend too. Was it because he,
too, had ceased to be her lover? if ever she stood face to face with him
again would she search in vain for that look of hunger--of ages-old
hunger and need--that she'd last seen when they stood face to face in
her little room on Clark Street?
She walked down-town to her apartment from the Pennsylvania station end,
though the natural effect of fatigue was to quicken her pace, and though
she was indubitably tired, she walked slowly; slowly, and still more
slowly. She found she dreaded going back to that apartment of hers and
shutting herself in for the night, alone.
She found two corners of white projecting from under her door.
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