“You should live on the top of a windmill,” he grumbled, but he did as she bade him, and watched her with some puzzled concern.
She soon recovered from her smothering and drew in her head and leant against the window in silence for a few minutes, then she said with calm decision,
“Oh yes, you can go to school, there is neither reason nor justice in your staying here. They might have prevented it to-night if they’d liked.”
“How?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Well, of all the beasts! Girls’ secrets are such fools of things, too! Don’t look like that, it’s awful with your scratchy face.”
“Oh, go to bed, do!”
“I wish you would, I think you are going to be sick, I’ll call Mary.”
“Dacre, don’t dare to, I’m as well as anything. I wish I was a witch and could fly over those trees on a broomstick.”
She peered eagerly out of the window, out over the tree tops and the whirling leaves, up into the dark heavens.