’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. . ” “I can’t imagine what makes you fly out against everything like this,” said Miss Stanley to her niece. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. She looked at Lucy guiltily, wondering if she would be betrayed. And then, “They seem changed. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. She must not tell Martha about Gerald. E.
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