A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. For so far she had kept it uncashed. She wanted to kiss his feet. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. White is proud of her drawing-room evenings. He showed me a black mark under his ear, where the noose would be tied.
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