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339 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1931
Papa is wed, and I am free,
O blessed state of liberty!
And now here was Jen singing, and audaciously singing, like some exultant thrush on a fine spring morning, as she hurried into the back dining room to tidy up her day's work, and for the first time saw that dull spot not as a prison, not as a gloomy frame within which sat an ageing girl doggedly performing duties that would never end, but as a jumping-off place from which one flung oneself into glory.
With father, she had never once, in her whole life, been natural. Probably no obedient creature, she thought, could be so, no creature whose time was spent carrying out orders, and dodging round as the shadow and echo of another human being; no person, that is, who was in any way a slave.
As far as Alice was concerned, and she was the person he saw most closely, God needn't have bothered to fill the year with magnificence, or invent a single sunset. For her the hedges in May foamed with white sweetness, and the buttercups turned the fields to glory, in vain. On her the wonder of the first real spring morning was lost. While as for when the daffodils dropped out in March and took possession of the world, she saw in this recurring miracle merely a sign that lamb would not be in season, and hastened to order it, roast, for their Sunday dinner.