She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. Their small talk continued. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. Still no sound. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her.
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