The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. ‘Oh, ah. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. The impassivity of her features changed at last. "And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh, Jack?" remarked Hogarth. Manning questioned whether when they were bad they were really beautiful or when they were beautiful bad. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring.
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