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Wharton, Edith, 1862-1937

"Summer"

Royall had stripped her
of her last illusion, and brought her back to North Dormer's point of
view. Distinctly and pitilessly there rose before her the fate of the
girl who was married "to make things right." She had seen too many
village love-stories end in that way. Poor Rose Coles's miserable
marriage was of the number; and what good had come of it for her or
for Halston Skeff? They had hated each other from the day the minister
married them; and whenever old Mrs. Skeff had a fancy to humiliate her
daughter-in-law she had only to say: "Who'd ever think the baby's only
two? And for a seven months' child--ain't it a wonder what a size he
is?" North Dormer had treasures of indulgence for brands in the burning,
but only derision for those who succeeded in getting snatched from
it; and Charity had always understood Julia Hawes's refusal to be
snatched....
Only--was there no alternative but Julia's? Her soul recoiled from the
vision of the white-faced woman among the plush sofas and gilt frames.


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