'Oh, don't bother, I assure you I shall be all right. I've got ten
shillings in my purse, and that will take me back from anywhere YOU
have brought me to.' She hesitated. The rings were still on her
fingers, two on her little finger, one on her ring finger. Still she
hesitated.
'Very good,' he said. 'The only hopeless thing is a fool.'
'You are quite right,' she said.
Still she hesitated. Then an ugly, malevolent look came over her face,
she pulled the rings from her fingers, and tossed them at him. One
touched his face, the others hit his coat, and they scattered into the
mud.
'And take your rings,' she said, 'and go and buy yourself a female
elsewhere--there are plenty to be had, who will be quite glad to share
your spiritual mess,--or to have your physical mess, and leave your
spiritual mess to Hermione.'
With which she walked away, desultorily, up the road. He stood
motionless, watching her sullen, rather ugly walk. She was sullenly
picking and pulling at the twigs of the hedge as she passed.
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