But on this matter my mind is quite made up. Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the floor. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. “Everything will follow,” she said.
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