“We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. Don’t imagine that. Set the boy free. ‘Never fear, my love. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. There was no rush. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an operation at the hospital. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery. “I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one.
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