She moved a little but made no reply. He could see only the full, smooth curve of her cheek against his shoulder. It was rather colourless.
"I believe you are worn out," he said.
"I have not rested for weeks."
"On account of that Trust business?"
"Yes.... But I was tired before that—I had done too much—lived too much—and I've felt as though I were being hunted for so long.... And then—I was unhappy about you."
"Because I had joined in the hunt," he said.
"You were different, but—you made me feel that way, too—a little——"
"I understand now."
"Do you really?"
"Yes. It's been a case of men following, crowding after you, urging, importuning you to consider their desires—to care for them in their own way—all sorts I suppose, sad and sentimental, eager and exacting, head-long and boisterous—all at you constantly to give them what is not in you to give—what has never been awakened—what lies stunned, crippled, perhaps mangled in its sleep——"