She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. There is something that inspires a feeling of inexpressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon the Thames. ’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct.
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