It was wonderful what a variety of exits from her corner Scrap
contrived for Mr. Wilkins. Each morning she found a different one,
which sent him off pleased after he had arranged her cushions for her.
She allowed him to arrange the cushions because she instantly had
discovered, the very first five minutes of the very first evening, that
her fears lest he should cling to her and stare in dreadful admiration
were baseless. Mr. Wilkins did not admire like that. It was not only,
she instinctively felt, not in him, but if it had been he would not
have dared to in her case. He was all respectfulness. She could
direct his movements in regard to herself with the raising of an
eyelash. His one concern was to obey. She had been prepared to like
him if he would only be so obliging as not to admire her, and she did
like him. She did not forget his moving defencelessness the first
morning in his towel, and he amused her, and he was kind to Lotty. It
is true she liked him most when he wasn't there, but then she usually
liked everybody most when they weren't there. Certainly he did seem to
be one of those men, rare in her experience, who never looked at a
woman from the predatory angle. The comfort of this, the
simplification it brought into the relations of the party, was immense.
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