She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. “Pump, pump, per-um-pump, Pum, Pump, Per-um. So the talk went on. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. ” “I’ll frame it—when I get it. “I thought we had discussed that, father. You're a queer lad.
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