Or else I would have finished him. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night.
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