Save that I was deeply attached to Betty, what had her discarded lover's attitude to do with me?
But Boyce was Boyce, the man of the damnable story of Vilboek's Farm.

And he, of his own accord, had revived in my mind that story in all its intensity.

A chance foolish question, such as thousands of gentle, sheltered women have put to their suddenly, uncomprehended, suddenly deified sons and husbands, had obviously disturbed his nervous equilibrium.

That little reflex twitch at the corner of his lips--I have seen it often in the old times.

I should like to have had him stripped to the waist so that I could have seen his heart--the infallible test.