" Half an hour later she laid aside the book. They had a universe to talk about—two universes. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. That's the way she strikes me. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible.
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