“The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. ‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. 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. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. She rode him gently. She pitted aspirants against each other in any way imaginable, with tests of science, math, and sometimes will alone.
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