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Updated: May 5, 2025
I heard mother say to Eileen that you had never had a chance for happiness. I thought it was very sad. I had gone into the clothes-press to play with my dolls you know I still do play with them that is, I go into some secret place and look at them at times when the children are not around. So I was in there, sitting on the cedar-chest, and I couldn't help hearing what they said."
I no longer need to count the sheep as they come over the wall, or patiently try to imagine the sound of surf-waves, or laboriously re-design that perennial dinner-gown which I've kept tucked away in the cedar-chest of the imagination as long as I can remember, elaborating it over and over again down to the minutest details through the longest hour of my whitest white night until it began to merge into the velvety robes of slumber itself!
Or been less cared for? Isabel. If one has only one cloak one must wear it in all weathers. Oberville. Unless it is so beautiful and precious that one prefers to go cold and keep it under lock and key. Isabel. In the cedar-chest of indifference the key of which is usually lost. Oberville. Ah, Isabel, you're too pat! How much I preferred your hesitations. Isabel. My hesitations?
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