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But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. The fatal shower, from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured, had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into the boiling gulf. Voilà tout. I thought it better not to send him away till I'd mentioned the circumstance to you. ” “But I love you. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation.
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