How would you interpret the last sentence? We discussed the question again this afternoon, or rather I talked. Justifying my absurd fear of travel and exposure, despising it all the while. My face must have been the Picture of Dorian Gray. At the end, when he goes to pieces. She used the quiet voice she seems to draw up from a different time, the childhood in mountain hells, I suppose. “What do ye fear will happen?” There was no sound but the clock in the hall: tick, tick. “Mr. Shepherd, ye cannot stop a bad thought from coming into your head. But ye need not pull up a chair and bide it sit down.” How would you interpret the last sentence: But ye need not pull up a chair and bide it sit down? Thanks! And It’s from The Lacuna by Kingsolver.