Almost crude, from Blair!
“Don’t look so taken aback, child.... Deb, what did you expect? Come, let’s talk it out, you and I.”
So they sat on the narrow stone balcony jutting over the street—and side by side, without a touch between them, had talked ... about touch, and about play, and marriage, and good old times, and loaves, and the demi-game, and the point of view of the man....
“You can’t go all the way, and then half way back, Deb. Nor will you find a partner to step that dance with you. Our old instinctive obeisance before the maiden doesn’t hold good before the wife, so why should I—or any man—be content with half?”
“I thought you had enjoyed it ...” whispered Deb.
“You were always ... quite charming, dear. But—put it like this: supposing there had been no one else for me, during our friendship, do you think then, that our friendship as it was would have been enough?”
“For me!”
“For me?”
“Then there was—someone all the time?”