May's mouth half smiled, uneasy. "Why not?"
They sat down on a hillock and Paul began to tear up grass blades as if he wanted to hurt them. When he thought of Julia it made him feel sorry for himself, and he hated her. "She's so darn complacent and shallow."
"Why, Paul, Aunt Julia's always doing things for people. She's been awfully good to you. After the way she helped you with your exams I shouldn't think you'd talk like that." May gazed at him with wide soft eyes of reproach.
He picked at the grass. "Oh, I'm joking. I suppose she felt very virtuous when she helped me."
"But she does lots, Paul. She's always interested in some charity work."
"Pish! Charity! What does a woman like that know about life!"
May was timidly silent.
"Some of these days I'm going to cut loose from everything—all these smug conventions."
"But where'll you go, Paul? I thought you wanted to study medicine."
"Well, I'd rather give up that than stand this atmosphere. Oh, hell! What's the use!"