” “It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that you are subject to this sort of thing. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. " Winifred's eyes filled with tears. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered.
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