The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. 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. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. To divide the agony into two spheres so that one would mitigate the other. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. ” “You don’t. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. “Believe me, I know. "Yes … but dreadfully tired.
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