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They were
inscribed with the name
RIMBAUER, EMILIO J. In one of the
little red circles the doctor had traced that abbreviation. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. There she sought and at last found 107A, one of those heterogeneous piles
of offices which occupy the eastern side of the lane. She sensed his acute frustration as he
unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. There was nothing to be learned from her face. After all, she was a consummate actress. 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. You saw him? You have been to
Remenham House?’
‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. You do not know him. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her
loneliness to-night she distrusted. You are my prisoner, murderer. She expanded that.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 12:00:34