Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. She used to play violin, you know. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man. ” “If he lives through the next hour,” the doctor answered, “I will send some one.
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