A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. Our land brings us in nothing. Young people ignore them until they find themselves up against them. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. Nothing at all. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting.
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