She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. A piece of seaweed touched her hand, tender and green. Finally, at the exit into Regent’s Park, they ran against Miss Klegg. 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.
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