’ Trodger had started towards the stairs, signing to his men to get behind the lady. 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. And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. He bowed awkwardly to Mrs. ’ She tossed her head. “Indeed I shall not forget your offer. Herein was the sum of human knowledge in essence. \"It's getting late John.
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