Days later, Sebastian found her by the lake, sobbing. ” He looked at her with white, set face. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. 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. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas.
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