Vorsack sat alone at his computer in his pajamas. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. She said that she couldn’t stand Mike. ‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. All his dreams shattered in an instant. Probably a sick man's whim.
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