Talk dropped. This line was dangerous.
"Tell me," she said again in curious inquiry; "you are not one of Roper's set?"
"No, he is some years my junior."
"But that does not make any difference. You never belonged to Roper's set. Isn't it very dull being a grind? Roper says you are a dig and fearfully clever."
"One must play for something." He waived aside the compliment.
"But how do you do it? Tell me just what you do every day."
Thornton was willing to take her seriously. He sketched his humdrum labors, the prizes in his way of life. "And it isn't so stupid," he ended with a laugh, "to play the game that way when once you have begun it." He added carelessly, as if to himself, "the body will give you only a few sensations, such a very few, and so humiliatingly inadequate."
"So we live for the body," the girl said, sharply, diving into his meaning.
"How do I know?" Thornton replied, irritated at his foolish remark.
"No you meant it; you meant it, and I suppose it is so. But one feels the body so constantly. Neuralgia racks me, and fatigue. Some days one would do anything to satisfy the cravings of that same body you seem to think we shouldn't pamper."