END OF THE FIRST EPOCH. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. The walls are too high, and the windows too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a supposition. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. A father is in debt, we'll say.
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