There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. I get my driver's license tomorrow. There was just time for the girl to raise her arm to chest height and draw it back before Roding seized her. “Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over.
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