" Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. Gerald lost his head. The girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in.
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