And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. “Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. She screamed at Sebastian. ” “I don’t care how we meet,” she said. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. The door opened. Gerald’s temper flared. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. I'm heading for bed.
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