CHAPTER XI. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. You are queerly educated; and it strikes me that your father had some definite purpose in thus educating you. ’ Then she jammed her hat on her head all anyhow and ran from the room. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. “My dear, can you see in this light? I think I would like to get in. ’ ‘Don’t you believe it. ” He answered as they hauled huge remainders of stumps and ragged rocks to the grave to make it difficult to trespass upon. Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. Then he understood. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. ” “Why can’t you take me with you?” He begged. If the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it as a sign that he did care a little.
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