Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. Maternal relations. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. The walls were of immense thickness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed; the fire-place was without a grate; and a barrack-bed, divided into two compartments, occupied one corner. He stopped abruptly. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream.
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