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It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. " "I'm sorry. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. ” “But your dinner!” she protested. ’ Her eyes narrowed. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. “It was a phase,” she said.
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