” “Please tell me why?” she asked. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. She was weeping now. 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. On his return to the room, Jonathan purposely left the door of the Well Hole ajar. He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below.
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