I doubt the existence of the kind of 'caring' we hear about in poems and plays and novels.

I think it must be just a kind of emotional TALK--most of it.

At all events, I don't feel it.

Now, we can go faster, please." "Just where does that let me out ?" he demanded.

"How does that excuse you for--" "It isn't an excuse," she said, gently, and gave him one final look, wholly desolate.