He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. Men ought not to idealize any woman. And when Manning was not about the thing seemed simple enough. When anybody is natural, these days, we dub them queer. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExOC4zMy4xOTcgLSAwOS0wNy0yMDI0IDAwOjUwOjQ3IC0gMTcwNzQxODAw
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