I'm ready to bear it all. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. You are to come home. I’ve been smoking cigarettes in the preparation-room and thinking this out. Life is morality—life is adventure. She knew, too, she must not hesitate. Too many.
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