I cannot protect you. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. Three times she escaped. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. The events that had initially followed in the wake of her triumph over Emile Gosse had quite confused and dazed her. ’ Fury was in her face. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. She got hysterical. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed. "Off!" she cried with a prolonged and piercing shriek. Upon leaning back, he commented, “You look so sad.
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