Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. ” The girl shook her head. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight.
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