He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. Time after time he reminded her of how powerless she would be without him, how unkind the world was towards single women. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris. ’ Fury was in her face. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees.
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