But Maggie had other thoughts, in this, outside Mr. Crashaw. She had
never lost the force of that first meeting with Mr. Warlock; she had
avoided him simply because she was afraid lest he should influence
her too much, but now after her friendship with Martin she felt that
she could never meet old Mr. Warlock frankly again. What he would
say to her if he knew that she meant to take his son away from him
she knew well enough. On every side there was trouble and
difficulty. She could not see a friend anywhere unless it was
Caroline, whom she did not completely trust, and Mr. Magnus, whom
her deception of her aunt would, she knew, most deeply distress.
Meanwhile she was being pushed forward more and more into the
especial religious atmosphere of the house, the Chapel and the
Chapel sect. Of no use to tell herself that this was only a tiny
fragment of the whole world, that there, only five yards away from
her, in the Strand, was a life that swept past the Chapel and its
worshippers with the utmost, completest indifference. She had always
this feeling that she was caught, that she could only escape by a
desperate violent effort that would hurt others and perhaps be, for
herself, a lasting reproach.
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