It was simpler than he had thought. He understood her to say that in its hour, by taking from her all passion, her genius was mindful of its own.
"I see," he said; "it's simply physical exhaustion."
She closed her eyes again.
He saw and rose against it, insanely revolted by the sacrifice of Jinny's womanhood.
"It shows, Jinny, that you can't stand the strain. Something will have to be done," he said.
"Oh, what?" Her eyes opened on him in terror.
His expression was utterly blank, utterly helpless. He really hadn't an idea.
"I don't know, Jinny."
He suggested that she should stay in bed for breakfast.
She stayed.