“And where are YOU going?” he said. "By all means," rejoined Quilt. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. Spurlock. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her. Was it that the struggle of things to survive produced as a sort of necessary byproduct these intense preferences and appreciations, or was it that some mystical outer thing, some great force, drove life beautyward, even in spite of expediency, regardless of survival value and all the manifest discretions of life? She went to Capes with that riddle and put it to him very carefully and clearly, and he talked well—he always talked at some length when she took a difficulty to him—and sent her to a various literature upon the markings of butterflies, the incomprehensible elaboration and splendor of birds of Paradise and hummingbirds’ plumes, the patterning of tigers, and a leopard’s spots. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. "I must tell you," she was saying. ” He asked questions and listened to her views for a time. Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. They can’t help seeing things in the way they do. There never is much left for me. Earles watched her anxiously.
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