’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. CHAPTER IX. The boy would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all romantic. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it. Anything in the least irregular is like poison to him. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him.
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