He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. It is she that I must see. " As Jonathan said this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her.
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