“You may not leave. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. “Lucy! Where is my daughter? Where have you. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. “What do you mean?” she asked. This time you cannot. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends.
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