She said--but, never mind. I'm not going to repeat her remarks. And
anyhow, Aunt Sophia said they were not true. Aunt Rose,' Henrietta
said thoughtfully, 'was not there. I don't suppose either of them is
right. And now I'm going to see Mrs. Sales.'
He ran after her. 'Henrietta, I shouldn't tell her you've seen me.'
She frowned. 'I don't like that.'
'It's for her sake.'
Henrietta turned away without a word, but she pondered, as she went,
on the dangerous likeness between right and wrong and the horrible
facility with which they could be, with which they had to be,
interchanged. One became bewildered, one became lost; she felt herself
being forced into a false position: she might not be able to get out.
Aunt Rose had sent her, Francis Sales was conspiring with her--she
made her father's gesture of helplessness, it was not her fault. But
she made up her mind she would never allow Francis Sales to find her
dull again, for that was unfair to herself.
3
Rose Mallett, who had always accepted conditions and not criticized
them, found herself in those days forced to a puzzled consideration of
life. It seemed an unnecessary invention on the part of a creator, a
freak which, on contemplation, he must surely regret. She was not
tired of her own existence, but she wondered what it was for and what,
possessing it, she could do with it. Her one attempt at usefulness had
been foiled, and though she had never consciously wanted anything to
do, she felt the need now that she was deprived of it.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194