The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. He pulled down a chair to her left. “Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have trampled upon them long ago. But I wanted to find out more, partly so I could share it with him. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. On the way home he was still thoughtful. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. Daughters were not like sons.
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