At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured.
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