While the work went on my father's feverish pride seemed to increase. I
heard of messages to Alma saying that no money was to be spared. The
reception was to surpass in grandeur any fete ever held in Ellan. Not
knowing what high stakes my father was playing for, I was frightened by
this extravagance, and from that cause alone I wished to escape from the
sight of it.
I could not escape.
I felt sure that Alma hated me with an implacable hatred, and that she
was trying to drive me away, thinking that would be the easiest means to
gain her own ends. For this reason, among others, the woman in me would
not let me fly, so I remained and went through a purgatory of suffering.
Price, too, who had reconciled herself to my revelation, was always
urging me to remain, saying:
"Why should you go, my lady? You are your husband's wife, aren't you?
Fight it out, I say. Ladies do so every day. Why shouldn't you?"
Before long the whole island seemed to be astir about our reception.
Every day the insular newspapers devoted columns to the event, giving
elaborate accounts of what limitless wealth could accomplish for a
single night's entertainment.
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