That would not help her. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. . 275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest.
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