She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. ” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. " "And what might that be?" "Will McClintock take us both?" "You took that chance. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. It’s not fair to you.
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