Roger shrugged.
“How can I tell?”
“But could any woman—any possible kind of a woman? And she’s a very possible kind. Something comes from her and finds your heart and draws it right out toward her. She couldn’t.”
“Perhaps you don’t understand this enigmatical lady.”
“Maybe I don’t understand everything about her, I’ve only known her a few days. But I can feel—it’s an instinct—that underneath where the real things are she’s true and sound.”
I can see into Roger more clearly than he knows, and I saw that he wasn’t at all interested in Miss Harris. He looked round the room and said indifferently:
“Why does she have a cad like that hanging about?”
“Perhaps underneath there’s something fine in him.”
“Very far underneath, buried so deep nobody but Miss Harris can find it.”
“Roger, don’t be disagreeable. You’ve never seen either of them.”