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Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. How much Mary knew is a mystery. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. She was like an angel with one wing. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. E. “Why should it matter?” he said.
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