" "But, mother, mayn't I sit up to see whether Thames returns?" implored Winifred. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger.
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