In hers was puzzled
questioning.
"I beg your pardon." His face flushed under the grave scrutiny bent
upon him. "I was reading abominably, but I couldn't get my mind--"
"I know," Carmencita nodded understandingly. "I do that way sometimes
when I'm saying one thing and thinking another, and Father always
takes a little nap until I get out of the clouds. He says I spend a
lot of my time in the clouds. I'm bound to soar sometimes. If I didn't
make out I wasn't really and truly living here, on the top floor, with
the Rheinhimers underneath, but just waiting for our house to be fixed
up, I couldn't stand it all the time. I'd go--"
She hesitated, then again went on. "You see, it's this way. There 're
a lot of things I hate, but I've got to stand them, and the only way I
can do it is to get away from them in my mind sometimes. Father says
it's the way we stand things that proves the kind of person we are;
but Father is Father, and I am me, and letting out is a great relief.
Did you ever feel as if you're bound to say things sometimes?"
"I'm afraid I've not only felt I had to say them, but I said them.
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