The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. Words of encouragement and sympathy were addressed to Jack, who, as he looked around, beheld many a friendly glance fixed upon him. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly.
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