She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. pgdp. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. . The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. Consequences of the Theft. The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their actual importance. He became angry. Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp.
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