Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. This business of love is the supreme affair in life, it is the woman’s one event and crisis that makes up for all her other restrictions, and I cower—as we all cower—with a blushing and paralyzed mind until it overtakes me!. She delighted in frustrating him. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. “I believe that he would bore me. “I would not have you go for anything,” she answered.
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