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. Totally disregarding the pain, he
picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use. But when it
came to broaching them, it proved to be much more difficult than she had
supposed. Her soul was
full of the sense of disaster. Alarmed by the
noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade.
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