Part 7 For a time the biological laboratory was full of healing virtue. Instead, they appeared to be at the hygienic level of tramps’ lodging-houses. What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. 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. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. ” She glared at him balefully. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful.
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