It was a habit of his to talk to himself. ” “Remember that you are young still, and fond of admiration,” Anna said. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. Almost had Martha won out. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. She described the Goopes and the Fabians to him, and gave him a sketch of her landlady; and he talked in the most liberal and entertaining way of a modern young woman’s outlook. All the same, I don’t admit it.
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