With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. A common rage flushed their faces. Ah Cum presented his black-bordered card to such individuals as seemed likely to require his services. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. “I wonder why I am always hungry nowadays. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget.
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