“How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. We're two good-looking fellows, ain't we?" "Very good-looking," replied Rachel. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. Neither of them joined in the applause which followed upon her exit. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. I can get into my clothes.
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