She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. "Why, hello, Ah Cum! What's the trouble?" Ah Cum took his hands from his sleeves. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head.
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