He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. You didn’t even put the twelve words. They give themselves airs, but so it is. . It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. ‘Poor Hilary.
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