It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. Everything I could do! Your father sat up all night. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup.
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