Her fingers rested upon his. “Where am I?” he muttered. She went next day to the schools, and her world seemed all made of happiness just worked up roughly into shapes and occasions and duties. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure.
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