The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. An action which gave Gerald furiously to think. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. ‘Ah, yes? To what do I pretend?’ ‘That,’ Gerald said regretfully, ‘I have not yet been able to fathom. If I do not look after her, she has no one. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably.
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