“I have been very selfish,” she declared. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. Wood brought up. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage.
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