One cannot trust any man at all. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. . She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. ” He looked at her, his eyes illuminated by the glow of the dashboard.
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