The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. I’m glad 237 you came over.
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