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drawn, stretched sleepily behind her back. Time, who flew, bird-like, before May's pursuing feet; time, who stared balefully into Mrs. Hilary's face, returning hate for hate, rested behind Grandmama's back like a faithful steed who had carried her thus far and whose service was nearly over. The Army moved on; its music blared away into the distance. The rain beat steadily on wet asphalt roads; the edge of the cold sea tumbled and moaned; the noise of the fire flickering was like unsteady breathing, or the soft fluttering of wings. "Time is so long," thought Mrs. Hilary. "I can't bear it." "Time gets on that quick," thought May. "I can't keep up with it." "Time is dead," thought Grandmama. "What next?" CHAPTER XVII THE KEY 1 Not Grandmama's and not Neville's should be, after all, the last word, but Pamela's. Pamela, who seemed lightly, and as it were casually, to swing a key to the door against which Neville, among many others, beat; Pamela, going about her work, keen, debonair and detached, ironic, cool and quiet, responsive to life and yet a thought disdainful of it, lightly holding and easily renouncing; the world's lover, yet not its servant, her foot at times carelessly on its neck to prove her power over it--Pamela said blandly to Grandmama, when the old lady commented one day on her admirable composure, "Life's so short, you see. Can anything which lasts such a little while be worth making a fuss about?" "Ah," said Grandmama, "that's been my philosophy for ten years ... only ten years. You've no business with it at your age, child." "Age," returned Pamela, negligent and cool, "has extremely little to do with anything that matters. The difference between one age and another is, as a rule, enormously exaggerated. How many years we've lived on this ridiculous planet--how many more we're going to live on it--what a trifle! Age is a matter of exceedingly little importance." "And so, you would imply, is everything else on the ridiculous planet," said Grandmama, shrewdly. Pamela smiled, neither affirming nor denying. Lightly the key seemed to swing from her open hand. "I certainly don't see quite what all the fuss is about," said Pamela. ***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DANGEROUS AGES*** ******* This file should be named 16799.txt or 16799.zip ******* This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/7/9/16799
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