“Thank you. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. It is the only way. After fifteen years, to find that peculiarly Occidental attribute—college loyalty—still alive in his heart! A Western idea that had survived; an idea that was merely the flower of youthful enthusiasm! With his hands still in his sleeves, his chin down in speculation over this phenomenon, he continued his patrol. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. When he said, “Let’s go and see the wart-hog,” she thought no one ever had had so quick a flow of good ideas as he; and when he explained that sugar and not buns was the talisman of popularity among the animals, she marvelled at his practical omniscience. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded.
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