She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. It depresses one, you know. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. . . I like such interviews.
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