I was his wife. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. They went to various central and local Fabian gatherings, and to a number of suffrage meetings. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. She was bathed in turbid water that had already been used. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily.
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