This is clear over my head. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. “I was lonely.
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