It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. It isn’t the same thing. It was interesting to see how different and characteristic his mode of approach was to all sorts of questions that interested her, and it was amusing to discover this other side to the life of a Morningside Park inhabitant. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. “Generally gets here about seven. My uterus and my ovaries are gone. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. I am bored to distraction. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. ” She was silent. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise.
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