Page:Claire Ambler (1928).djvu/197

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"It sounds like it."

"Well, I'm not," the daughter insisted.

"I shouldn't think you would," Mrs. Ambler said. "I should think you'd be glad to leave a place where they do such awful things as those ruffians did to poor young Mr. Liana. And you needn't cry over him, either. He's perfectly certain to get well."

"I told you I wasn't crying."

"I think you're very foolish. You know you adore Paris."

"I'm not crying!"

"Very well," Mrs. Ambler said. "How long have you been awake like that?"

"Like what?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. For heaven's sake, stop that crying and try to get some sleep!"

Claire's voice became petulant. "Please let me alone, Mother!"

Mrs. Ambler sighed and let her alone. No one else could have known in the morning how desolately her daughter had wept, most of the night. Above all, no one would have guessed such a thing of Claire at noon when Miss Orbison came for her and took her to the invalid's cell to say good-bye to him.