Horner broke away breathlessly. His heart was pounding. He knew his face was flushed, he could feel it. His legs were unsteady. He wanted to respond, but his energies were dissipating in the hard-pumping heart, the trembling limbs, the flushed face. It was a middle-aged response. It lacked the drive and direction of youth.
"Did you like that?" the girl asked, taking one of Horner's hands and holding it.
"Yes," came his breathless reply. "Oh, yes! I liked it."
"But you didn't...."
"Respond? I have a wife."
"That wasn't the reason."
"We're happily married!"
"And I like this sweater I'm wearing very much, but I have others and will wear others."
"The mores of our society...."