"I feel sure Hirst didn't mean to hurt you." When Rachel tried to explain, she found it very difficult.

She could not say that she found the vision of herself walking in a crocodile with her hair down her back peculiarly unjust and horrible, nor could she explain why Hirst's assumption of the superiority of his nature and experience had seemed to her not only galling but terrible--as if a gate had clanged in her face.

Pacing up and down the terrace beside Hewet she said bitterly: "It's no good; we should live separate; we cannot understand each other; we only bring out what's worst." Hewet brushed aside her generalisation as to the natures of the two sexes, for such generalisations bored him and seemed to him generally untrue.

But, knowing Hirst, he guessed fairly accurately what had happened, and, though secretly much amused, was determined that Rachel should not store the incident away in her mind to take its place in the view she had of life.
"Now you'll hate him," he said, "which is wrong.

Poor old Hirst--he can't help his method.