“Winterbourne was not pleased with what he had heard: but when, coming out upon the great steps of the church, he saw Daisy, who had emerged before him, get into an open cab with her accomplice and roll away through the cynical streets of Rome, he could not deny himself that she was going very far indeed. He felt sorry, not for her-not exactly that he believed that she had completely lost her head, but because it was painful to hear so much that was pretty and undefended and natural assigned to a vulgar place among the categories of disorder.”
Henry James, “Daisy Miller”, 1878.
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