Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. And she had not dressed herself in this habit of a blue so much like the sky just for his sake, no matter that Lucy had said how much this colour suited with her eyes.
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