She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence. "Though you lorded it over that fond fool, Mrs.
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