She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. "But are you really there?" "No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. “You could tell me but you’d have to kill me?” He asked with a sardonic grin on his face. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. To an unthinking mind the episode would be ordinary, trivial; but to the doctor, who had had plenty of time to think during his sojourn in China, it was basic of the child's unhappiness. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. I am really in earnest. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me.
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