For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. Prudence was the substance and Angelina the shadow; for Angelina never offered opinions, she only agreed with those advanced by Prudence. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living.
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