He is an awfully good sort— and now he has come to me to help him if I can. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. ” And then he flashed his whole conception of the relations of men and women upon her in one astonishing question. His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. 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.
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