She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. "I believe I'll tear them up. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. But he was always forcing her to say and do such unexpectedly conclusive things. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. . “I’ve got—I have to tell you this to make myself clear—a streak of ardent animal in my composition. ” Anna looked at them for a moment with a pitiful attempt at a smile. " "Swear it!" "I do.
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