Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. ” Part 4 They lay side by side in a shallow nest of turf and mosses among bowlders and stunted bushes on a high rock, and watched the day sky deepen to evening between the vast precipices overhead and looked over the tree-tops down the widening gorge. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. She infused menace into her voice. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life.
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