The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. ” She muttered some unlady-like comment upon herself under her breath and engaged in secret additions. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger.
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