She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. She could not help but admit that she liked being smiled at and addressed in the hallways by hordes of friendly faces. “Mr. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. "I do," replied Jack, carelessly. Annabel, I cannot believe it. With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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