And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy. It was painful to want him so much. The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping.
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