Emile looked at her, then down, and clearly caught the bright gleam on the floor. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. His horse, which had apparently gone to sleep, preferred to remain where he was. “I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. But there was, it insisted, no mobility in his face, no movement, nothing about him that warmed. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. Here they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended the repast. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. " "I'm sure I'm very sorry. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears.
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