And you have stolen my dagger. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. Lucy could see Diane’s clear dislike of her, the foster background she had come from, and the single mysterious episode with the police that had inflamed the gossips from all the corners of town. She meditated profoundly through several enormous cold hours on all that had happened and all that she had done since the swirl of the suffrage movement had submerged her personal affairs. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. He embraced her like her father once had.
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