Marise's mother died that night, without seeing them again.
AN EDUCATION IN THE HUMANITIES AND THE LIBERAL ARTS
CHAPTER XXII
September, 1900.
The first weeks of Freshman year were like a return to the formless impersonality of little boyhood. Just as Neale had felt himself an amœba-like cell among the finished, many-membered adults of his parents' circle, so he was now again only one more wriggle in the mass of Freshmen. Nobody could tell him apart from any other Freshman. He could scarcely tell himself apart from the other Freshmen.