She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. "For what?" "I had the paper with me. I was being stupid. "Can't!" repeated his mother. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. . ” “Who seduced whom?” He asked impetuously. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. ’ ‘This is what you say of him? Me, I find he is growling all the time like a dog. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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