He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. He was speechless. Their conversation became stilted. "Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself. “Happened! Oh, many things,” she declared indolently. That paper must be signed, or I take my departure. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand.
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