“Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. ” “It’s a score you can buy all sorts of things with. ” His shoulders relaxed. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “You love some one else?” he repeated. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again.
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