“Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. She came into the room.
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