Don't be too late, please,
Lee; it makes you tired starting so early in the morning."
"You'll have to forgive me," Claire said, when Fanny had gone; "but I
don't--I never did--like women."
"Do you think any more of men, now?"
"Heavens, yes. I wish I could find someone to blame for what has
happened, Peyton specially, but I can't, not to save my life. It seems
so hopelessly inevitable. I don't want you to suppose I'm not unhappy,
Lee; or that I care only a little for Peyton. I love him very much; I
needed him, and my love, more than I can explain. As Fanny as good as
told me, I am a wild bird; anything, almost, with what is behind me,
may happen. It was just the irony of chance that this affair caught
Peyton, the immaculate, instead of me. I was awfully glad that I had an
anchor that seemed so strong; in my own faulty way I adored everything
I had; I wanted to be tranquil, and it had a look of security."
"It isn't over, Claire," Lee asserted. "I haven't seen that young fool
yet."
"Please don't bother him; and it's too much to drag out the moralities
on my account."
"Moralities!" he echoed indignantly, "who said a word about them? I'm
not interested in morals. Lord, Claire, how little you know me. And as
for bothering him, he'll have to put up with that. He has invited a
certain amount of it."
They forgot the game and faced each other across the disordered cards.
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