I don’t care what else there is in the world. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. We mustn’t make it so. “What did it matter?” she cried. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. ’ ‘Dunderhead. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed.
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