“One can’t tell. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about.
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