She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face. He called it "The Man Who Could Not Go Home. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. I’ve got no feminine class feeling.
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