I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. From what she could tell, he truly had convinced himself that he was in love with her, but she knew that his ardor would fade eventually inasmuch as she knew John’s would. ” “Why?” “If I were bad at it, you would be on your way to the hospital by now. "It's a whale of a place.
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