Chapter XI
Though Gyp had never seemed to look round she had been quite conscious of Summerhay still standing where they had parted, watching her into the house in Bury Street. The strength of her own feeling surprised her, as a bather in the sea is surprised, finding her feet will not touch bottom, that she is carried away helpless--only, these were the waters of ecstasy. For the second night running, she hardly slept, hearing the clocks of St. James's strike, and Big Ben boom, hour after hour. At breakfast, she told her father of Fiorsen's reappearance. He received the news with a frown and a shrewd glance. "Well, Gyp?" "I told him." His feelings, at that moment, were perhaps as mixed as they had ever been--curiosity, parental disapproval, to which he knew he was not entitled, admiration of her
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