She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. "Good bye, Jack! Keep up your spirits. “It is very, very difficult,” she continued, looking steadfastly at the ground. “There is my aunt,” she said. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle.
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