The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. It was the only way to make the monthly bills. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. . Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. gutenberg. She entered quietly and padded up to her shared bedroom. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence.
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