“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. ‘She has constituted herself leader of the émigrés here, and feels justifiably slighted by having taken the pretend Valades under her wing. Boys were ordered to wear white buttondown shirts and pleated black trousers. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. Like carpenter, like chips. To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. I'll tote it myself. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. After all, it is not long since that a Catholic nun in this country would have had to remain in hiding. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. "I might return the question. If my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely.
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