It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. Womanhood is sacred to me. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold.
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