At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. “Bit thick on the old man, isn’t it?” said Roddy, who had developed a bluff, straightforward style in the motor shop. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. E.
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