To say that she was _right!_ "If Perpetua wishes to go for a walk," says Miss Majendie, breaking through a mist of angry feeling that is only half on the surface, "I am here to accompany her." "I don't want to go for a walk--with you," says Perpetua, rudely it must be confessed, though her tone is low and studiously reserved.
"I don't want to go for a walk _at all."_ She pauses, and her voice chokes a little, and then suddenly she breaks into a small passion of vehemence.

"I want to go somewhere, to _see_ something," she cries, gazing imploringly at Curzon.
"To _see_ something!" says her aunt, "why it was only last Sunday I took you to Westminster Abbey, where you saw the grandest edifice in all the world." "Most interesting place," says the professor, _sotto voce,_ with a wild but mad hope of smoothing matters down for Perpetua's sake.
If it _was_ for Perpetua's sake, she proves herself singularly ungrateful.

She turns upon him a small vivid face, alight with indignation.
"You support her," cries she.

_"You!_ Well, I shall tell you! I"-- defiantly--"I don't want to go to churches at all.

I want to go to _theatres!_ There!" There is an awful silence.