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He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. She was a clever girl, the best of her year in the High School, and she made a valiant fight for Somerville or Newnham but her father had met and argued with a Somerville girl at a friend’s dinner-table and he thought that sort of thing unsexed a woman. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. Why may I not be your friend? Somehow or other I feel that you have been driven into a false position. " "Bless you for it.
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