She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. " "Don't say so," cried Mrs. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. "Give them what you please. And, though it's a long time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever. It was not a long prayer.
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