“Her profile is flawless,” he thought. “How do these classic faces come to exist in these parts at all?”

He bent down over the sleeping girl as tenderly as he might have done over the first cuckooflower of the season. “It’s happened at last,” he said to himself. “She’s let him have her⁠ ⁠… just to revenge herself about the cheque and about everything else she endures in her life with me! I’m a cuckold at last. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like; and now I know. I don’t feel anything! I’m just a mirror for her feelings. It’s been so bad for her that it’s of her I think⁠ ⁠… entirely⁠ ⁠… absolutely!”