"Mrs. Gareth-Lawless----" she began, reasonably.
But Robin stopped her by turning her face full upon her once more,
and this time her eyes were full of clear significance.
"She will let me go," she said. "You KNOW she will let me
go, Mademoiselle, darling. You KNOW she will." There was a frank
comprehension and finality in the words which made a full revelation
of facts Mademoiselle herself had disliked even to allow to form
themselves into thoughts. The child knew all sorts of things and
felt all sorts of things. She would probably never go into details,
but she was extraordinarily, harrowingly, AWARE. She had been
learning to be aware for years. This had been the secret she had
always kept to herself.
"If you are planning this," Mademoiselle said, as reasonably as
before, "we must work very seriously for the news few years."
"How long do you think it will take?" asked Robin. She was nearing
sixteen--bursting into glowing blossom--a radiant, touching thing
whom one only could visualize in flowering gardens, in charming,
enclosing rooms, figuratively embraced by every mature and kind
arm within reach of her. This presented itself before Mademoiselle
Valle with such vividness that it was necessary for her to control
a sigh.
"When I feel that you are ready, I will tell you," she answered.
"And I will do all I can to help you--before I leave you.
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