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. Capes bore a face of infinite perplexity. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing.
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