” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. Capes looked at one and not over one, spoke to one, treated one as a visible concrete fact. “Lucy, that’s horrible. ” John approached Lucy, handing the bouquet to her. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. 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. " "Worth anything?" "I don't know. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. "The marriage was never consummated," continued the imperturbable stranger.
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