Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. With something near to horror they found themselves thus confronted. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. “It is no good playing a game. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. I want to make my own selection. Remember what the conjuror said. ] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. "My head fairly turns round.
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