"I don't. I mean--I do sometimes wonder. You're so charming to everyone
and--"

"But I'm not insincere because of that, am I? I wish you hadn't thought
that. Of course, one meets people, at the theatre and so on, and one
doesn't really know them and can't get at them, and so one just tries to
be very nice to them, but I don't call that insincere...."

"No. I didn't mean to people like that. But to your friends--to old
Carminow, for instance, and myself.... I sometimes wonder. And to
yourself--"

"Ah! I'm not insincere to myself."

"I sometimes wonder if you know what your real self is."

"Don't I? I do. Why do you say that, Mr. Ruan?"

"Because you asked me, and because I can't help saying what I think when
I'm asked like that and I think the person's worth it."

Blanche had pushed away her cup, and now she folded her arms on the
table and bent to him over them. Her face was very earnest.

"I do know what you mean," she admitted; "I think I know it better than
you do. And I suppose it's partly because I've no mother and I've had to
protect myself. A woman is very like some kinds of animals I've heard
of--she has to assume protective colouring. If I seem to like people
that have nothing in common with me it's because I find it's the
simplest way. You are different; I don't have to pretend anything with