I’m sorry. Homosexuals weren’t looked too kindly upon in their exclusive suburban neighborhood, not even dashing handsome ones. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. ‘Then let her keep her Frenchified titles to herself. But she made no answer. Sometimes I am frightfully busy; and then there will be periods of dullness.
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