honourable mystery. The cruel irony of it was often almost humourous to Imre.
"... They have given me the credit of being the most confirmed rake in high life... think of that! I, and in high life!.. to be found in town. The less they could trace as ground for it, why, so much the stronger rumours!.. you know how that sort of a label sticks fast to one, once pinned on. Especially if a man is really a gentleman and holds his tongue, ever and always, about his intimacies with women. Why, Oswald, I have never felt that I could endure to be alone five minutes with any woman... I mean in—that way! Not even with a woman most dear to me, as many, many women are. Not even with a wife that loved me. I have never had any intimacies—not one—of that sort... Merely semblances of such! Queer experiences I've tumbled into with them, too! You know."
Oh, yes... I knew!
Part of Imre's exaggerated, artificial bearing toward the outer world was the nervous
