I want to ask questions about her--only it makes Father so unhappy when I bring up the past." "It would, I reckon.

Things like that are better forgotten." Then, dismissing the subject abruptly, he remarked in the old tone of facetious familiarity, "I never saw you looking better.

What have you done to yourself?
You are always imitating some new person every time I see you." "I am not!" Her temper flashed out.

"I never imitate anybody." Yet, even as she passionately denied the charge, she knew that it was true.

For a week, ever since her first visit to the old print shop, she had tried to copy Corinna's voice, the carriage of her head, her smile, her gestures.
"Well, you needn't," he assured her with admiring pleasantry.