He thought he heard a scraping sound as he turned the handle. Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. Men do not understand constancy as women do.
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