Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. Thank him, not me, man. Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. He refused. “The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense. “I want to have no distractions.
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