They were standing face to face now upon the hearthrug. She found herself talking to Capes in an undertone of rational admission. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Let us part in peace.
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