” He frowned. \"I don't eat lunch. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. They were bathing in the stream. 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. Sheppard, which she gratefully declined. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse.
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