They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. 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. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. ’ As a matter of fact, I am not. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour.
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