The Baxter girl persisted—
“But I don’t see it. Oh, of course it is like him—but because she borrowed his face, the story needn’t be about him. Why couldn’t she just imagine the story? If she was a genius?”
“That remains the point,” said Mr. Flood.
“She was,” insisted Anita stubbornly.
Miss Howe smiled and said nothing.
He continued—
“The mere fact that she was a genius would prevent such a descent into milk and sugar, unless she were money-making or love-sick.”
The blonde lady spoke—
“Just so! Love-sick—sick of love—savage with love—savaging her holy of holies. A parody. Lila’s right.”
But Miss Howe shook her head.