Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. “Yes. How clever she was, to fool everybody so easily! Not yet had any one suspected the truth: that she was, in a certain worldly sense, only four weeks old, that her every act had been written down on paper beforehand, and that her success lay in rigidly observing the rules which she herself had drafted to govern her conduct. It feels like it. Her hair was the one part of her that did not exude the air of wealth. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. And I think I will indeed blow off your imbecile head. The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three hundred years. You are not going to that infidel Russell’s classes. I do want them. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease.
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