Her sister’s words were true. White said. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. The will to live had returned. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. “If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time. We are the species, and maternity is our game; that’s all right, but nobody wants that admitted for fear we should all catch fire, and set about fulfilling the purpose of our beings without waiting for further explanations.
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