” “Kate who?” Lucy asked. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition. Take me to the Stone Room. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. “I have noticed,” he said, “that you seem to delight in taking a topsy-turvy view of life.
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