The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. "Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. D'ye hear. Don't ask any more questions. She dismissed the whole subject with a little shrug of the shoulders.
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