The Night-Cellar XVIII. "I've spoken. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. "I understand," she said. 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. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. " "You need never be afraid of that," returned Winifred, affectionately; "my father will take care you never leave him more.
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