He no more could have returned the caress than he could have risen off the ground into the air, like those floating figures depicted in sacred paintings.

After all, she was quite capable of stirring a sentiment in his heart--a sentiment of aversion.
"Go join Imo," he replied.

"One of the boys will bring the car to the hospital and take you home.

Impossible for me to drive you there to-day." That was it--impossible, literally impossible, for his whole being was in revolt.

The threshold of the door might have been a dead-line; he was unable to cross it, at any rate.