Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. 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. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. But a doll that rolled its eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour—there had been natives to fetch and carry—she and Cosette were sisters in loneliness. The progress of time was marked in Mr. Ireton and his friends to taste it. I'm sure she'll let me go, though. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham. In this way, more than a month passed over.
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