Mrs. Kitson gazed at her with horror, dismay, and even fear.
"Why? Why? Don't you know how wrong it is to take things that don't
belong to you?"
"Oh, all that!" said Sarah, waving her hand scornfully. '"I don't want
the silly thing, and I don't suppose I'd have kept it, anyhow. I don't
know why I've told you," she added. "But I just don't want to be
bothered with Mary any more."
"Indeed, you won't be, you wicked girl," said Mrs. Kitson. "To think
that I--my grand-father's--I'd never missed it. And you haven't even
said you're sorry."
"I'm not," said Sarah quietly. "If Mary wasn't so tiresome and silly
those sort of things wouldn't happen. She _makes_ me----"
Mrs. Kitson's horror deprived her of all speech, so Sarah, after one
more glance of amused cynicism about the room, retired.
As she crossed the Square she knew, with happy relief, that she was free
of Mary, that she need never bother about her again. Would _all_ the
people whom she compelled to obey her hang round her with all their
stupidities afterwards? If so, life was not going to be so entertaining
as she had hoped.
Pages:
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239