There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. . “Oh, I can’t thank you. What other reason could there be? It’s more complex, but it’s better. ” He stepped back as though he had received a blow. “What are you doing?” He cried. “I am lonely. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. ” She could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts racing across his mind, the failed hours of rehearsed lines.
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