” “For what?” Lucy asked. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. It grew clear to her that throughout all her wild raid for independence she had done nothing for anybody, and many people had done things for her. She would not forgive me. She, perhaps, displayed herself rather consciously as a fine person unduly limited. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it.
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