” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. ’ ‘It’s immaterial, in any event,’ Roding put in. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. He was disquieted. How can I tell you all I feel? I love you beyond measure.
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