They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. In some incomprehensible way that back view made her feel sorry for Alice. I wished to control the weather, to possess infinite wealth, and to understand the substances of the earth.
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