Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. “Our marriage must be annulled. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly. He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in semi-darkness. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. He did not speak for a moment. People had started filling the hall: instrumentalists, overly conscientious parents. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow.
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