At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. He was entranced as she walked towards him. "But I'm a blackguard, too, Ruth. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. He nodded silently, too full for words. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. Her sister had told him that it was true.
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