“I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. Is this a reason?’ ‘Not good enough? Now I had every hope that it would appeal to you. He resumed his listening. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. For your information, it was paradise there. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. I don’t want to hear you. A familiar ache of wanting made itself more insistent in her belly. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. "Surely," she said, after a pause, "you don't attach any importance to what my mother has just said. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble.
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