He remained talking with her however. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered. "How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. “Only it is much too late for you to be out alone. I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. ” She glanced at Brendon, who stood by her side, tall and threatening.
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