"Get ready the irons, Caliban. I had rather have trouble and hardship like that than be taken care of by others. That is why Wall Street broke your father; he was honest. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Your life is like a funeral March. It means social isolation—struggle. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. She looked at the white ankle socks on her feet and was reminded simultaneously of her pajama outfit and the suitcase that still lay underneath the bed.
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