“Okay. ’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. No doubt she was wondering what he had done in Charvill’s house and what he intended now. And yet—I love you. ‘But I have been perfectly honest about that. ” The two women shook hands. He awoke, strangely content. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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