Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. “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. Also he is ugly. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. "Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals.
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