"I'm indifferent. That is, I'm neutral. If you have it I'll probably be glad. If you don't—well, that's all right too."
"I wish you'd make up your mind one way or the other!"
"Suppose you make up your mind."
She looked at him contemptuously, scorning to answer.
"You'd think you'd been singled out of all the women in the world for this crowning indignity."
"What if I do!" she cried angrily. "It isn't an indignity for them. It's their one excuse for living. It's the one thing they're good for. It is an indignity for me.
"See here, Gloria, I'm with you whatever you do, but for God's sake be a sport about it."
"Oh, don't fuss at me!" she wailed.
They exchanged a mute look of no particular significance but of much stress. Then Anthony took a book from the shelf and dropped into a chair.
Half an hour later her voice came out of the intense stillness that pervaded the room and hung like incense on the air.