“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. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. She explained she was expecting an important interview, and asked that her visitor should be duly shown in. "I shall like to call you that. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. ‘Léonore, then?’ She shook her head animatedly, enjoying his attention.
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