CHAPTER XX. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. . She sensed that he was looking for her. Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. ” Sir John looked at her sideways. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. It came again. Manning, “that I mind Courage in a Woman—I love and admire Courage.
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