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. "I thought I heard a scream. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. Wild had escaped. They are rather a long way off, but you could write to them. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.
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