At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. If we do not begin—” She had come to a resolution. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. "But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. Daughters were in the air that day. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. " "So it is, child. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. In some things, in many things, you must trust to your elders, to those who know more of life than you do. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand.
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