"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. It was at the age of five, when it became clear that she would not be followed by a brother, that he became more distant towards her and stopped adoring her. " "Perhaps I'm too tired to plan for to-morrow. “What night will you dine and go to the theatre with me?—and how about Hurlingham on Saturday?” Anna shook her head. F. "He's here. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday.
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