’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy. ’ Hilary’s brows shot up. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. It made her laugh, which in turn made him laugh. It is not so. They said no more for a moment, and each was now acutely aware of the other. It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business.
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