"No; I can only see where he was different from you."
But he felt she had a grudge against him.
One evening, as they were coming home over the fields she startled him by asking:
"Do you think it's worth it—the—the sex part?"
"The act of loving, itself?"
"Yes; is it worth anything to you?"
"But how can you separate it?" he said. "It's the culmination of everything. All our intimacy culminates then."
"Not for me," she said.
He was silent. A flash of hate for her came up. After all she was dissatisfied with him, even there, where he thought they fulfilled each other. But he believed her too implicitly.