Professor Leeds
[Thinking, oblivious to this remark]
But I must constantly bear in mind that she’s not herself . . . that she’s a sick girl . . .
Marsden
[Thinking]
The morning news of Gordon’s death came . . . her face like gray putty . . . beauty gone . . . no face can afford intense grief . . . it’s only later when sorrow . . .
[With concern]
Just what do you mean by changed, Professor? Before I left she seemed to be coming out of that horrible numbed calm.
Professor Leeds
[’’Slowly and carefully’’]
Yes, she has played a lot of golf and tennis this summer, motored around with her friends, and even danced a good deal. And she eats with a ravenous appetite.
[Thinking frightenedly]
Breakfast . . . “dreamed of Gordon” . . . what a look of hate for me in her eyes! . . .
Marsden
But that sounds splendid! When I left she wouldn’t see anyone or go anywhere.
[Thinking pityingly]
Wandering from room to room . . . her thin body and pale lost face . . . gutted, love-abandoned eyes! . . .
Professor Leeds
Well, now she’s gone to the opposite extreme! Sees everyone—bores, fools—as if she’d lost all discrimination or wish
