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when I was five. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray. They mean everything that women can mean—except submission. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. “You would believe that life is kindled by the passions alone.
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