It could not be she who had done this. 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. ‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. It is that, is it not?” “No,” he answered readily. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. That was the only sound he heard. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar.
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