The child has sprung into a youth; the youth has become a man; the man has already begun to feel the advances of age. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. She was crushed with a sense of her own terrible impotency. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. There must be something, one feels, in ideas that achieve persistently a successful resurrection. Honestly, I never did. Wood; but they never come now.
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