The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. But I've an old friend on the way here, and he knows the game down there. You have been to see your sister, of course. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. She stabbed him with her canines. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward. \"I'm not hungry either, I'm still worked up from that game. And the situation it makes!—the situation!” Thus Manning, egotistical, inconsecutive, unreal. He had assumed that her leaving home was the point at issue, that everything turned on that, and that the sole alternative was obedience, and she had fallen in with that assumption until rebellion seemed a sacred principle.
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