All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. “I feel shabby and disgraced. "I'd rather you went over the last four chapters, which I haven't polished yet. "I never saw the like of you! One has to guard one's actions constantly in this wicked world, if one is a woman, young and pretty. Pull yourself together now. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding.
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