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Some days, his eyes were green. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. ” “It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. She shut the door behind her. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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