” 189 “Are you feeling okay?” She could feel a parade of ants dotting her skin. “I wonder,” he said, “if women do know things by instinct? I have my doubts about feminine instinct. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt.
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