Afterward goes on to Oxford. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old.
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