“I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. ” The dinner was admirable as a dinner; nothing went wrong, from the golden and excellent clear soup to the delightful iced marrons and cream; and Miss Stanley’s praises died away to an appreciative acquiescence. Woof! What a dog. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Natives are queer.
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