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CHAPTER XVII. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. That was life. They fight over money all of the time. And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. “You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. ’ Joan nodded, her face still averted. His face was downcast. Drink the toast, Jack.
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