The shawl--a gay one with colors in it--had fallen from her head and was trailing, wet and bedraggled, over an equally bedraggled skirt.

Soused with wet, her hair disheveled, and all her garments awry with the passion of her movements, she yet made his heart stand still, as, with a sullen look at those about her, she rushed into the room prepared for her use and slammed the door behind her with a quick cry of mingled rage and relief.

For with all these drawbacks of manner and appearance she was the living picture of Georgian; so like her, indeed, that he could well understand now the shock which his darling received when, in the unconsciousness of possessing a living sister, she had encountered in street or store, or wherever they had first met, this living reproduction of herself.
"No wonder she became confused as to her duty," he muttered.

"I even feel myself becoming confused as to mine." "Bring me up something to eat," he now heard this latest comer shout from her doorway.

"I don't want tea and I don't want soup; I want meat, meat.
And I shan't go down afterward, either.