Without hesitation Flora seized her father round the body and pulled
back--being astonished at the ease with which she managed to make him
drop into his seat again. She kept him there resolutely with one hand
pressed against his breast, and leaning across him, she, in her turn put
her head and shoulders out of the window. By then the cab had drawn up
to the curbstone and was stopped. "No! I've changed my mind. Go on
please where you were told first. To the docks."
She wondered at the steadiness of her own voice. She heard a grunt from
the driver and the cab began to roll again. Only then she sank into her
place keeping a watchful eye on her companion. He was hardly anything
more by this time. Except for her childhood's impressions he was just--a
man. Almost a stranger. How was one to deal with him? And there was
the other too. Also almost a stranger. The trade of being a woman was
very difficult. Too difficult. Flora closed her eyes saying to herself:
"If I think too much about it I shall go mad." And then opening them she
asked her father if the prospect of living always with his daughter and
being taken care of by her affection away from the world, which had no
honour to give to his grey hairs, was such an awful prospect.
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