He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. It would be the wrappered world almost at its best. ‘But you are idiot. You sent back my Christmas checks. This—all this swamps them.
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