Mrs. How will we get there, I’d like to know? We’ve no money. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. Stanley came home at a quarter to six—an earlier train by fifteen minutes than he affected—his sister met him in the hall with a hushed expression. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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