I rather think they have kicked him, from the tone of some of the letters. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Rules are for established things, like the pieces and positions of a game. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. I’ll protect you!” He cried.
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