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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"

I also require some trifling data connected with Ffolliott. If
your father is coming, it will be as well to be able to lay my hands on
things. You can explain to Betty. Good-morning." He waited for no reply,
but wheeled about and left her.
Betty herself wore a changed face when she came down. A cloud had passed
over her blooming, as clouds pass over a morning sky and dim it. Rosalie
asked herself if she had not noticed something like this before. She
began to think she had. Yes, she was sure that at intervals there had
been moments when she had glanced at the brilliant face with an uneasy
and yet half-unrealising sense of looking at a glowing light temporarily
waning. The feeling had been unrealisable, because it was not to be
explained. Betty was never ill, she was never low-spirited, she
was never out of humour or afraid of things--that was why it was so
wonderful to live with her. But--yes, it was true--there had been
days when the strong, fine light of her had waned. Lady Anstruthers'
comprehension of it arose now from her memory of the look she had seen
the night before in the eyes which suddenly had gazed straight before
her, as into an unknown place.
"Yes, I know--I know--I know!" And the tone in the girl's voice had been
one Rosy had not heard before.


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