As she did so it seemed to Kendal that she was regarding his whole moral, mental, and material nature.

He could almost see it reflected in the glass of her great dark eyes.
"Certainly, yes.

That is fair--if you really and truly care to see it.

And I don't know," she added, looking up at him from her soup, "that it matters whether you do or not, so long as you carefully and accurately pretend that you do.

When my best, my real best, sees the light of common--" "Type," he suggested.
"Type," she repeated unsmilingly, "I shall be so insatiate for criticism--I ought to say praise--that I shall even go so far as to send you a marked copy, very plainly marked, with blue pencil.