“It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. ‘To find what?’ demanded Gerald.
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