“Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love so impertinently. You know that, and I know that, though we might be put to it to find a reason why. I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. Humph. For me that is all over and done with. I’m turning into a big fat cow. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her.
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