"But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. And, after all, a fine clear sky of bright colors is the signal to come out of hiding and rejoice and go on with life. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment.
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