I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Horrible doubts assailed her. The fates are never so kind to me. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. “In fact, yes, I do.
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