Startled by the cry, as may be supposed, the attention of the whole congregation was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. But his lips were honourlocked. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea.
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