All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. "I don't know; I really don't know. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and a hat with a turned up brim. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. “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. " "It is strange," replied Winifred, artlessly. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book.
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