The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. She made herself a private declaration of liberty. Only last night she saw me, and there was horror in her eyes. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was.
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