“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. ‘Now see here, missie. But machinery will never approach the hand. The rest was easy. ” “I do not know who he is,” Brendon said quietly, “but he will not forget. She hoped that Shari would not be too brokenhearted about her disappearance. Like a trollop in heat.
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