She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. “No man can realize,” she said, “what that pit can be. He had thought it might have that effect. There's something queer about that young man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. As for me, I look twice at it.
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