But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. It was in another world from that in which men will die for a kiss, and touching hands lights fires that burn up lives—the world of romance, the world of passionately beautiful things. The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips seemed to say that she was not quite so sure. . We have him as safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck round as easily.
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