“Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. He opened the door of still another room, in one corner of which was a grand piano. I’ve got a lot of things to think about. “You’re burning up. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. ” She saw him flinch, but he gave no sign of it in his tone. “Under the Wilde Frau—which was named after you. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. At any rate he made it very clear that night that there was an ineradicable discord in life, a jarring something that must shatter all her dreams of a way of living for women that would enable them to be free and spacious and friendly with men, and that was the passionate predisposition of men to believe that the love of women can be earned and won and controlled and compelled. Gerald switched to French. His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife.
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