When Sheila was in a good mood, one almost enjoyed her. Wood, I forget nothing. She was definitely following him. “No. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. ” This couplet sprang into her mind from nowhere, and immediately begot an endless series of similar couplets that she began to compose and address to Capes. It is bad policy. He had assumed that her leaving home was the point at issue, that everything turned on that, and that the sole alternative was obedience, and she had fallen in with that assumption until rebellion seemed a sacred principle. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it.
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