"Are you sure you didn't hurt yourself this morning with that chair?" she asked.
"No, no!"
"When you had that pneumonia, what did it do to you?"
"Oh, nothing! it left my heart not so strong and the lungs not so elastic. But it always does that."
"And you ought not to make violent physical efforts?"
"Not often."
She plodded on in an angry silence.
"Did you hate Clifford?" she said at last.
"Hate him, no! I've met too many like him to upset myself hating him. I know beforehand I don't care for his sort, and I let it go at that."
"What is his sort?"