“If being provincial means loving my own, I’ll stay provincial.”
“Travel broadens the mind, changes the point of view.”
“But why should I love my country less? I know her faults. And I know Baldy’s. But I love him just the same.”
As they walked on, he fell into step with her. “We won’t argue. You are probably right, and if not, you’re too pretty for me to contradict.”
His gallantry was faultless, but she wanted more than gallantry. There had been the vivid give and take of her arguments with Evans. They had had royal battles, youth had crossed swords with youth. And from their disagreements had come convictions.
She had once more the illusion of Frederick as a feather cushion! He would perhaps agree with her always!
And her soul would be—smothered!