Susan looked round defiantly, as if she expected a bolt from the blue to come hurtling through the open window.

But the sky remained serene, and the quiet, scented breeze continued to play with the lace curtains, and the birds on the balcony did not suspend their chattering courtship.

This lack of immediate effect from her declaration of war upon man and God was encouraging.

The last of the crushed, cowed feeling Ruth had inspired the night before disappeared.

With a soul haughtily plumed and looking defiance from the violet-gray eyes, Susan left her cousin and betook herself down to breakfast.
In common with most children, she had always dreamed of a mysterious fate for herself, different from the commonplace routine around her.