Her father was holding her waist, smiling. She laughed a little bitterly. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. “I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. Stanley. They tried to read illustrated papers in an unconcerned manner and with forced attention, lest they should catch the leaping exultation in each other’s eyes. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. She thought of Capes.
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