"What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. She used to play violin, you know. 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. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. He was full of fabulous stories, not just tales of his own past in Rome but wonderful fables from the mysterious Orient and the ancient Greeks, old jokes and yarns that only he remembered. “I have the right to be here. ” The official had no more to say. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort.
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