“Would you wait for me?” Manning was silent for a space. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Goopes said that we must distinguish between sincerity and irony, which was often indeed no more than sincerity at the sublimated level. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. It has been very humiliating. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. But how to avail himself of it was the question, for in his present garb he was sure to be recognised. Wood fancied he recognised.
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