She had an especial wish to know whether he had
ever been in love--seriously, passionately--and, failing to gather
any satisfaction from his allusions, she at last directly inquired. He
hesitated a while, and at last he said, "No!" She declared that she was
delighted to hear it, as it confirmed her private conviction that he was
a man of no feeling.
"Really?" he asked, very gravely. "Do you think so? How do you recognize
a man of feeling?"
"I can't make out," said Mrs. Tristram, "whether you are very simple or
very deep."
"I'm very deep. That's a fact."
"I believe that if I were to tell you with a certain air that you have
no feeling, you would implicitly believe me."
"A certain air?" said Newman. "Try it and see."
"You would believe me, but you would not care," said Mrs. Tristram.
"You have got it all wrong. I should care immensely, but I shouldn't
believe you. The fact is I have never had time to feel things. I have
had to DO them, to make myself felt."
"I can imagine that you may have done that tremendously, sometimes."
"Yes, there's no mistake about that."
"When you are in a fury it can't be pleasant."
"I am never in a fury."
"Angry, then, or displeased."
"I am never angry, and it is so long since I have been displeased that I
have quite forgotten it.
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