She interrupted. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. “I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. Stanley lost patience. So while he talked to this girl of work and freedom, his slightly protuberant eyes were noting the gracious balance of her limbs and body across the gate, the fine lines of her chin and neck. He envied her a little. He went more easily this time. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could. “Yes.
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