"I don't know what it is--some wild strain; something that drives me headlong; makes me see red when I am balked! Maybe it is just too much physical energy.
"Well, if you let me work it off it does no harm.

If I can ride all day, or paddle or swim, or go hunting with Michel or one of the others; and be interested in what I'm doing, and come home tired and sleep without dreaming--why everything is all right.

But if you insist on cooping me up!--well, I'm likely to turn out something worse than harum-scarum, that's all!" Gaviller flung up his arms.
"Really, you'll have to go back to your aunt," he said grimly.

"The responsibility of looking after you is too great!" Colina laughed out of sheer vexation.

"The silly ideas fathers have!" she cried.