" "Loves!" echoed Winifred, slightly colouring. ’ He bowed slightly, and indicated the house behind them with a wave of his hand. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. “We are the species,” said Miss Miniver, “men are only incidents. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. But it means no end of a row. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine. And for me there is only one treasure-house.
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