Explore "Hermia Suydam" by Gertrude Atherton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
She met Quintard the next afternoon at a tea. She was standing with a group of people when he joined her. After a moment he asked her to go over to the other side of the room and talk to him. She was somewhat amused at his directness, but went with him to a sofa and ignored the rest of the company for a half-hour.
At the end of that time she drew a long sigh of relief. He was not her ideal; he was commonplace. He talked very well, but with none of Cryder's brilliancy. He was even a little didactic, a quality she detested. And he had none of the tact of an accomplished man of the world. She was not surprised to hear that he had not been to five entertainments in as many years. There was no subtle flattery in his manner; he did not appear to take any personal interest in her whatever; sometimes he appeared inattentive to what she was saying. She wondered why he had insisted upon talking to her. Moreover, he was cold, and coldness and her ideal had never shaken hands. He looked as if nothing could move that calm self-control, that slow, somewhat stiff formality.