Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. . She was a clever girl, the best of her year in the High School, and she made a valiant fight for Somerville or Newnham but her father had met and argued with a Somerville girl at a friend’s dinner-table and he thought that sort of thing unsexed a woman. The moisture from the sea was constant, and she spent countless hours staring at the sea from the west tower, the rise and fall of waves. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle. Besides, she will do no such thing. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods.
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