"Not really found herself yet, you think?" Jack questioned; the phrase was one often in use between these young people.
Mary mused. "Somehow that doesn't apply to her—I don't believe she'll ever look for herself."
"You think it's you she finds," Jack suggested; voicing a dim suspicion that had come to him once or twice of late.
"What do you mean, exactly, Jack?"
"I'm sure I don't know," he laughed a little. "So you like her?" he questioned.
"I think I do; against my judgment, against my will, as it were. But that doesn't imply that one approves of her."
"Why not?"
"Why, Jack, you know the way you felt about it, the day you and I and
Rose talked it over."
"But we hadn't seen her then. What I want to know is just what you feel, now that you have seen her."
Mary had another conscientious pause. "How can one approve of her while
Imogen is there?" she said at last.