It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. “Yes,” she answered, looking away. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. ’ ‘Pah! You can never be Valade.
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