What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn. The girl is in it as deeply as he is. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts.
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