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. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. “Women would—they DO have far more power than they think, as influences, as inspirations. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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