. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. I want to be whatever I can to you. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. 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. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from the lady. “They seem smaller, you know, even physically smaller,” she said.
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