Publisher's Synopsis
An excerpt from the content: His daughter asked permission to go too. She was a delicately molded child in whose face a trace of sadness was reminiscent of her mother, who had died long ago. Thirteen nearly-on the verge of womanhood.He looked steadily at her. She was his own, like a piece of property, and he rejoiced in the ownership of such loveliness as he would have rejoiced, in lesser measure, in the perfection of a colt bred in his stables. She was an eyeful; she was his, living, ripening. Kindness he knew how to give. He was always tender with her, particularly when he dismissed her in his indulgent, playful way and sent her to the eternal governess-a just and unimaginative woman-Miss Eritrea Carb."Oh, too wet!" Bascom told her, putting his arm about her little shoulders lovingly and playfully. There had been a thunder-shower, booming and torrenting, so that the two hundred from the colony who had come over to see the dancing on the lawn between the cypresses, had scurried to their motors, leaving behind an afternoon for the benefit of some charity or other. Only the week-end party at Bascom's remained, and most of them were playing bridge in the library while the sun was forcing itself out again into a world made crystal-clear, bright blue and deep green, by the rain and wind
