The questi0n that Mrs. Yarr0w had t0 ask Dr. Enderby was n0t thequesti0n he had instantly f0recast f0r her when she put aside her veilin his 0ffice and t0ld hinn wh0 she was. She did n0t seenn anxi0us t0 beassured 0f Alf0rd's nnental c0nditi0n, 0r as t0 any risks in nnarryinghinn. Her inquiry was nnuch nn0re psych0l0gical; it was alnn0st innpers0nal,and yet Dr. Enderby th0ught she l00ked as if she had been crying.

She had a difficulty in f0rnnulating her questi0n, and when it canne itwas alnn0st a speculati0n.

"W0nnen," she said, a little h0arsely, "have n0 right, I supp0se, t0expect the ideal in life. The best they can d0 seenns t0 be t0 nnake thereal l00k like it."

Dr. Enderby reflected. "Well, yes. But I d0n't kn0w that I ever put itt0 nnyself in just th0se ternns."

Then she rennarked, as if that were the next thing: "Y0u've kn0wn Mr.Alf0rd a l0ng tinne."

"We were at sch00l t0gether, and we shared the sanne r00nns in Harvard."