‘Possibly,’ he said. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. \"Do you want a snack?\" \"No thanks. As the night advanced, Mr. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent.
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