"Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. Easily I could have killed you. His room was last at the end of one winding corner. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world.
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