He was no less conscious than before of what was said of Lily Bart, but he could separate the woman he knew from the vulgar estimate of her.

His mind turned to Gerty Farish's words, and the wisdom of the world seemed a groping thing beside the insight of innocence.

BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART, FOR THEY SHALL SEE GOD--even the hidden god in their neighbour's breast! Selden was in the state of impassioned self-absorption that the first surrender to love produces.
His craving was for the companionship of one whose point of view should justify his own, who should confirm, by deliberate observation, the truth to which his intuitions had leaped.

He could not wait for the midday recess, but seized a moment's leisure in court to scribble his telegram to Gerty Farish.
Reaching town, he was driven direct to his club, where he hoped a note from Miss Bart might await him.

But his box contained only a line of rapturous assent from Gerty, and he was turning away disappointed when he was hailed by a voice from the smoking room.
"Hallo, Lawrence! Dining here?
Take a bite with me--I've ordered a canvas-back." He discovered Trenor, in his day clothes, sitting, with a tall glass at his elbow, behind the folds of a sporting journal.
Selden thanked him, but pleaded an engagement.
"Hang it, I believe every man in town has an engagement tonight.