She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. . . Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. “I believe that he would bore me. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you.
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