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The Point of View by Elinor Glyn
page 21 of 114 (18%)

Stella had thrown every consideration to the winds, except the
determination to enjoy herself. Years of rebellion at the boredom
of her existence seemed to be urging her on. So she meekly slipped
into the cloak, and wrapped the veil right over her hat, and they
started. Her heart was thumping so with excitement she could not
have spoken for a moment.

But as they went rapidly on through the crowded streets, her
companion's respectful silence reassured her. There seemed to be
some rapport between them, she was conscious of a feeling that he
understood her thoughts, and was not misjudging her.

"You are like a little frightened bird," he said presently. "And
there is nothing to cause you the least fear. We shall soon come
to the lovely gardens, and watch the lowering sun make its
beautiful effects in the trees, and we shall hear the nightingales
throbbing out love songs--the world is full of rest and peace--
when we have had enough passion and strife and want its change--
but you do not know anything of it, and this simple drive is
causing you tumults and emotions--is it not so?"

"Yes," said Stella, with a feeling that she had burnt all her
ships.

"It is because you have never been allowed to be YOU, I suppose,"
he went on softly. "So doing a natural and simple thing seems
frightful--because it would seem so to the rigid aunt. Now, I have
been ME ever since I was born--I have done just what seemed best
to me. Do you suppose I am not aware that the way my hair is cut
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