" "I was never going to tell anybody," she added. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home.
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