For a while he threatened her. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. "I give you one minute for reflection. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. I wanted something alive. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. . He might miss at this distance. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. ” “I have been through dozens of foster parents, John. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions.
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