For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. The same night he met Meddoes and Drummond together, the latter over from Paris on a week’s leave from the Embassy. Kneebone. I do not think that I have the Bohemian spirit at all. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. So this was what it was all about. His voice now had lost its ironies. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently.
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