“Some day,” she answered. "Recollect you are in my power. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. She hoped that Shari would not be too brokenhearted about her disappearance. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. That’s the difficulty. “Tell me,” she insisted, “why you look like that. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living.
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