. It was the day I borrowed a pencil; the day we first spoke to one another. ’ ‘Ah, that is easy,’ she began, laughing. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. 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. Three short days. Close upon this came another thought.
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