Part 4 But presently, as she sat on the one antimacassared red silk chair and surveyed her hold-all and bag in that tidy, rather vacant, and dehumanized apartment, with its empty wardrobe and desert toilet-table and pictureless walls and stereotyped furnishings, a sudden blankness came upon her as though she didn’t matter, and had been thrust away into this impersonal corner, she and her gear. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. The doctor will be here to see you in five minutes. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare.
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