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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"A Spirit in Prison"

"
She took up her work again.
"I've been thinking that I am rather like the dog that buries his
bone," she added, bending once more over the embroidery.
"Are you thinking of--of your husband?"
"Yes, and of Vere. I isolated myself with Maurice. Now I am isolating
myself with Vere. Perhaps it is unwise, weak, this instinct to keep
out the world."
"Are you thinking of changing your mode of life, then?" he asked.
In his voice there was a sound of anxiety which she noticed.
"Perhaps. I don't know."
She glanced at him and away, and he thought that there was something
strange in her eyes. After a pause, she said:
"What would you advise?"
"Surely you are happy here. And--and Vere is happy."
"Vere is happy--yes."
He realized the thoughtlessness of his first sentence.
"But I must think of Vere's development. Lately, in these last days, I
have been realizing that Vere is moving, is beginning to move very
fast. Perhaps it is time to bring her into contact with more people.


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