” 74 She hung up the phone. With his black and gray hair, his gray-green eyes were a striking contrast and he looked even younger, as if he had been frozen at age thirty-three. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. No matter. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again.
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