” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. They were both dressed in every respect alike. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing.
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