She had lived with it, she had lived in it almost-it appeared
to have become her habitation. If she had been captured it had taken a
firm hand to seize her; that reflection perhaps had some worth. A mind
more ingenious, more pliant, more cultivated, more trained to
admirable exercises, she had not encountered; and it was this
exquisite instrument she had now to reckon with. She lost herself in
infinite dismay when she thought of the magnitude of his deception. It
was a wonder, perhaps, in view of this, that he didn't hate her
more. She remembered perfectly the first sign he had given of it-it
had been like the bell that was to ring up the curtain upon the real
drama of their life. He said to her one day that she had too many
ideas and that she must get rid of them. He had told her that already,
before their marriage; but then she had not noticed it: it had come
back to her only afterwards. This time she might well have noticed it,
because he had really meant it. The words had been nothing
superficially; but when in the light of deepening experience she had
looked into them they had then appeared portentous. He had really
meant it-he would have liked her to have nothing of her own but her
pretty appearance.
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