Mere formality. Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he was preparing to pass through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to have been recently dislodged. It was the crowned queen of mountains in her robes of shining white. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. The lad looked alarmed. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. Until she had left her island, what she heard and what she saw were truths. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course.
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