She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. "That's the whole difficulty. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. I wouldn't accept my life from him. Daughters were not like sons. She was dressed in one of those complicated dresses that are all lace and work and confused patternings of black and purple and cream about the body, and she was in many ways a younger feminine version of the same theme as himself.
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