She appeared to be as
calm as a church; her hair fell, black and like a pall, down over
both her shoulders. The fire beside her was burning brightly; she
must have just put coals on. She was in a white silk kimono that
covered her to the feet. The clothes that she had taken off were
exactly folded upon the proper seats. Her long hands were one
upon each arm of the chair that had a pink and white chintz back.
Leonora told me these things. She seemed to think it extraordinary
that the girl could have done such orderly things as fold up the
clothes she had taken off upon such a night--when Edward had
announced that he was going to send her to her father, and when,
from her mother, she had received that letter. The letter, in its
envelope, was in her right hand.
Leonora did not at first perceive it. She said:
"What are you doing so late?"
The girl answered: "Just thinking."
They seemed to think in whispers and to speak below their breaths.
Then Leonora's eyes fell on the envelope, and she recognized Mrs
Rufford's handwriting.
It was one of those moments when thinking was impossible,
Leonora said. It was as if stones were being thrown at her from
every direction and she could only run.
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