"Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park.
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