But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. ‘Alors, I see it. Don't lay it all to the boy. She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. 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. Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. Except he was the only idiot who would stay. “But you must forgive me, John. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire.
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