I MUST. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt. “Sir John is a man of the world,” her aunt answered coldly.
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