” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. 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. He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage.
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