"I've been thinking, Fanny--why shouldn't I turn that room looking over
the garden into a bedroom? We're awfully cramped here. It's just like
us to go on with the same arrangements, merely because we're used to
them."
Then Fanny knew, and her knowledge was more of an upheaval in her mind
than any thought of this revolution against the placid routine of their
existence. So much greater was it that she could not even bestir herself
to resentment against Mary for preferring to be alone.