She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. But I do not need that Gérard attend. . It’s these damned novels. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper.
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