There'll be busy days and idle. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. It's of no use. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. “An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other.
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