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88 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1919
There is nothing more powerful, but nothing more delicate in life than the valves of individuality. To create the impression that humanity was a thing which could be turned out like a coinage would be to ruin the whole illusion of life.
[…] had no longer a monopoly on gloomy speculation, for her fellow sufferers in the ward were all more or less inclined to take a morbid view of life. This fact took a great deal of point from Nan’s outlook. She had a feeling she was only throwing ink on a black sky. There was no satisfaction in holding parleys with patients who paid back gloom for gloom. She missed the lively background of Kilbeg, the conflict of outlook that brought out the light and shade of her battling will.