“And if you didn’t get it?”

“Then I’d have to do without.”

Again she pondered, before she asked:

“And do you think you’ve always been right with women?”

“God, no! I let my wife get to what she was: my fault a good deal. I spoilt her. And I’m very mistrustful. You’ll have to expect it. It takes a lot to make me trust anybody, inwardly. So perhaps I’m a fraud too. I mistrust. And tenderness is not to be mistaken.”

She looked at him.

“You don’t mistrust with your body, when your blood comes up,” she said. “You don’t mistrust then, do you?”

“No, alas! That’s how I’ve got into all the trouble. And that’s why my mind mistrusts so thoroughly.”

“Let your mind mistrust. What does it matter!”