A vast indifference settled down upon him. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door. “Very well,” said her father. ” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. You are doing your best to break our friendship. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that. ” He awoke. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels.
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