_Pourquoi donc!_ I will send
her to Monsieur John Kendal; she may make him responsible.
He will break her, but he will not lie to her; they
sacrifice all to their consciences, those English! And
now, you good-natured fool, you are in for a devil of an
evening!"
CHAPTER IV.
"Three months more," Elfrida Bell said to herself next
morning, in the act of boiling an egg over a tiny kerosene
stove in the cupboard that served her as a kitchen, "and
I will put it to every test I know. Three unflinching
months! John Kendal will not have gone back to England
by that time. I shall still get his opinion. If he is
only as encouraging as Nadie was last night, dear thing!
I almost forgave her for being so much, much cleverer
than I am. Oh, letters!" as a heavy knock repeated itself
upon the door of the room outside.
There was only one; it was thrust beneath the door,
showing a white triangle to her expectancy as she ran
out to secure it, while the fourth flight creaked under
Madame Vamousin descending. She picked it up with a light
heart--she was young and she had slept. Yesterday's strain
had passed; she was ready to count yesterday's experience
among the things that must be met.
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