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. You think everything is harmless and simple, and so forth. “In any case, there is probably some mistake. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. 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. I know all about it.
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