impersonal tone, as if merely stating facts.
"Now I've got to go. Prentiss'll be waiting for me at the office."
While driving to the office, Mr. Gulmore's thoughts, at first, were with
his daughter. "I don't know why, but I suspicioned that. That's why she
left the University before graduatin', an' talked of goin' East, and
makin' a name for herself on the stage. That Professor's foolish. Ida's
smart and pretty, and she'll have a heap of money some day. The ring
has a few contracts on hand still--he's a fool. How she talked: she
remembered all that lecture--every word; but she's young yet. She'd have
given herself away if I hadn't stopped her. I don't like any one to do
that; it's weak. But she means business every time, just as I do; she
means him to be fired right out, and then she'd probably go and cry over
him, and want me to put him back again. But no. I guess not. That's not
the way I work. I'd be willin' for him to stay away, and leave me alone,
but as she wants him punished, he shall be, and she mustn't interfere
at the end. It'll do her good to find out that things can't both be done
and undone, if she's that sort. But p'r'aps she won't want to undo
them. When their pride's hurt women are mighty hard--harder than men
by far.... I wonder how long it'll take to get this Campbell to move. I
must start right in; I hain't got much time."
As soon as her father left her, Miss Ida hurried to her own room, in
order to recover from her agitation, and to remove all traces of it. She
was an only child, and had accordingly a sense of her own importance,
which happened to be uncorrected by physical deficiencies. Not that
she was astonishingly beautiful, but she was tall and just good-looking
enough to allow her to consider herself a beauty. Her chief attraction
was her form, which, if somewhat flat-chested, had a feline flexibility
rarer and more seductive than she imagined. She was content to believe
that nature had fashioned her to play the part in life which, she knew,
was hers of right. Her name, even, was most appropriate--dignified. Ida
should be queen-like, stately; the oval of her face should be long, and
not round, and her complexion should be pallid; colour in the cheeks
made one look common. Her dark hair, too, pleased her; everything, in
fact, save her eyes; they were of a nameless, agate-like hue, and she
would have preferred them to be violet That would have given her face
the charm of unexpectedness, whic
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