” “I don’t want absolution. ‘I do not know the word in English. " "You're a philosopher, too. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. ” She replied. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. “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. ” “Perhaps I don’t. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. With people of that sort all sorts of things may happen. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken.
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