" "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. Here again instinct guided her. . She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. It is repulsive. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. ‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him.
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