He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. “I don’t care a rap for remembering. She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. She felt it would save explanations if she did not state she had left her home and was looking for employment. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity. .
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