The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. ” Lucy reflected. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly.
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