Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. But then the features changed. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. "Leave the room instantly, sirrah!" rejoined the lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek that made his eyes flash fire. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. He's a nice boy, a good student. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient.
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