But for him she might have been alive and happy. Then she went into the office. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Of course, if at any time—see reason—alter your opinion. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. ‘Laisse-moi. ” Lucy said, thinking of the Becks who worked around the clock just to keep a tiny house in the same neighborhood. Wood required little pressing. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. 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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