It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. ” John introduced her to couple after couple, a dizzying array of new people that she could not catalogue in her memory quickly enough. “Will you tell me what all this is about?” said Capes. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. 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.
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