“It’s settled. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. A true nun. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. "I yield to fate.
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