” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. Prudence. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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