She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. ‘But you will not be in a convent. “Quite different. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. Now keep still. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. ‘That’s right, you bone idle do-nothings.
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