But her request was unheeded. Caution forced her to speak calmly. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. . Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. " But the caution came too late. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. It was better even than the hymn-singing. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. .
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