Explore "The Cable" by Marion Ames Taggart on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Cicely waited the coming of her yet unknown hostess without much interest in the arrangement which Father Morley had not only made for her, but, so to speak, had carried by assault. She was so utterly tired in body and mind, so prostrated by the intensity with which she had been feeling for the past hours that the ability to feel was, for the time, burned out of her.
She sat back against the garden bench, resting sidewise so that her arm lay across its back; her head drooped forward on her shoulder, waiting quiescent for Miss Braithwaite to come to fetch her away.