What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. Waving a white flag, naturally. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same.
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