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. But if that can possibly be done I want it to be done. He lives in constant dread of a reappearance of ‘La Belle Alcide,’ and hearing it said that she is his wife’s sister. And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts. They flash to and fro, they thrill us with expectancy. In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. We shall see. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. Both these ladies possessed considerable personal attractions. It was a great weight from her shoulders to confide in another human being, and she suspected he did truly believe her. But you’ve got to lend me forty pounds.
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