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. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. "Come and sit down by me. I went to her rooms to-night. Since she was only seventeen when she had them, she didn’t deal with it very well. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned.
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