“It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. “The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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