. She pulled down her veil and made her way to the door. Ann Veronica was overcome by this amount of emotion. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure of his identity. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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