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. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Michelle was only a junior, the same year as herself. He thought of his wealth for once from a different point of view. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. It was the bitterest moment of her life.
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