During this colloquy, Jack had contrived unobserved to put on the hood and cloak, and being about the size of the rightful owner, presented a very tolerable resemblance to her. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. “You know nothing about the stage. "Rather a devil," groaned her son, "to have done this. Superstition is the Chinese Reaper. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. unless a copyright notice is included.
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