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. “We pretend bodies are ugly. ‘No mistaking you this time. Well, kill me. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. Why doesn’t she marry? Plenty of money under her father’s will. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. " "Well, imagination beats me!" "It's something Ruth saw. “I expected you this morning,” he said.
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