Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. Leave the room! leave the house, Sir! and enter it again at your peril. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect security. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. Sir John felt that after all forty-five was not so very old.
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