She threw them on to the table when she had read them through.
But there was one which angered her, and replacing it in its envelope, she tossed it so petulantly aside that it slid off the iron table and fell at Sylvia's feet.

Sylvia stooped and picked it up.

It had fallen face upward.
"This is from my father." Mrs.Thesiger looked up startled.

It was the first time that Sylvia had ever spoken of him to her.

A wariness come into her eyes.
"Well ?" she asked.
"I want to go to him." Sylvia spoke very simply and gently, looking straight into her mother's face with that perplexing steadiness of gaze which told so very little of what thoughts were busy behind it.