Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. ‘You mean—’ ‘Hilary!’ Lucy turned excited eyes back to Alderley. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. "I thought you were asleep. " "How long have I been in bed?" "A week. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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