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This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue. " "You don't inquire what brings Sir James Thornhill here?" said Austin. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. Sorry. Yet she held her tongue. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. And now she insisted that she MUST leave the chastened security of the Tredgold Women’s College for Russell’s unbridled classes, and wanted to go to fancy dress dances in pirate costume and spend the residue of the night with Widgett’s ramshackle girls in some indescribable hotel in Soho! He had done his best not to think about her at all, but the situation and his sister had become altogether too urgent. “And aren’t there fees to pay at the Imperial College?” her aunt was saying—a disagreeable question. The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care.

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