He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. " "I wish you hadn't mentioned her," said Jack, in a broken voice, while his whole frame shook with emotion. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. This was his humiliation as well as hers. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols.
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