Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. But she was staring seaward and did not notice the offering. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression.
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