“And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. Non. I'm no mollycoddle. ” “I believe you,” she murmured. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. What would happen when next morning she returned to Morningside Park? He couldn’t turn her out of doors. ” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. “Now replace the stone, my child.
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