“Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. The boy was all conscience, and he suffered through this conscience to such lengths that the law would be impotent to add anything. Think how free that leaves me to follow things up! I must take you everywhere.
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