“Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. We all get deceived sometimes. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. “Oh, it is okay. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters.
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