‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. Gag him," he added, pushing Thames rudely toward Quilt Arnold, "and convey him to the boat. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. She could not move. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. If you could see how it gives them souls, women who have taken things for granted, who have given themselves up altogether to pettiness and vanity. She could no longer wait.
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