“What can you do?” she asked. He would be off her case just as soon as his fever for her broke and he found a lover, and she imagined he must have plenty of girls from ritzy families lining up to choose from. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. He noted the strong white teeth as they snipped the thread. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. It is so ridiculous.
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