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. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. " "You are a party concerned. Not so bad. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal.
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