Her voice as well as the look on her face had a beseeching earnestness that made Irene vaguely uncomfortable. She said: “I don’t believe it. In the first place what you’re saying is so utterly, so wickedly wrong. And as for your giving up things—” She stopped, at a loss for an acceptable term to express her opinion of Clare’s “having” nature. But Clare Kendry had begun to cry, audibly, with no effort at restraint, and for no reason that Irene could discover.
