That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. He is in Newgate. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. The Widgetts talked with a remarkable absence of external coverings; the Palsworthys found all the meanings of life on its surfaces.
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