“How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. “She’s all right. And girls and women, perhaps, are different. "And yet—but it is only part of the chain of ill-luck that seems wound around me.
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