A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. “It was my sister Anna. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. “I’ll try to stop by.
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