Connie’s father, when he paid a flying visit to Wragby, said in private to his daughter: As for Clifford’s writing, it’s smart, but there’s nothing in it. It won’t last!⁠ ⁠… Connie looked at the burly Scottish knight who had done himself well all his life, and her eyes, her big, still-wondering blue eyes became vague. Nothing in it! What did he mean by nothing in it ? If the critics praised it, and Clifford’s name was almost famous, and it even brought in money⁠ ⁠… what did her father mean by saying there was nothing in Clifford’s writing? What else could there be?

For Connie had adopted the standard of the young: what there was in the moment was everything. And moments followed one another without necessarily belonging to one another.

It was in her second winter at Wragby her father said to her: “I hope, Connie, you won’t let circumstances force you into being a demi-vierge .”