You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. About this conception of ownership he perceived and desired a certain sentimental glamour, he liked everything properly dressed, but it remained ownership. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. "Curse him!" muttered Abraham.
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