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. Stanley being bored and feeling limited. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. He handed her a cheque for thirty-one pounds, ten shillings, and read the agreement through to her.
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