" "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. I want to love him. He is Jacques. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune.
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