"What is that?"
"A lonely soul. I suppose men have it, too—a sort of isolation within the race, a pining to be set free from the torment of solitude. Bobs has an exceptional nature, so she is more than usually at the mercy of suffering; her needs are intensified."
"She has all sorts of ideas, you know, about freedom in love, the right to motherhood, and all the rest of it. That's what's the matter with her; she's got a lot of crank notions that won't work out."
Jane laughed.
"What's the matter?"
"I was wondering if you had considered Bobs's ideas seriously enough to damn them so finally."
"No, I haven't. I have no patience with them."
"'Where ignorance is bliss,' says Jerry!" Jane teased.
He was putting away his painting things, from which he looked up and flushed.
"Look here, Jane, don't treat me like the little boy who upset the jam!"