She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She backed away from him. About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his little charge. 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. I don’t know what has come over me. " The Wastrel laughed. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey.
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