Gracie lengthened her stride, “Well, I have worked like hell on my friend, Robert, but I can't bring him to his senses!“ Her tone was an amalgam of exasperation and hubris. Having been on her own for so long, there was a brittleness to her need that was readily apparent, possibly to Robert.
In response, Jan ran the glass-half-full argument, “You'll just have to accept that, and try to be grateful for his terrific friendship. It’s futile laying siege and battering the castle keep. You will lose more than there is to gain.” Jan had a sneaking suspicion that Gracie aimed high deliberately, recalling the list that she had peeled off just the previous Saturday over a fruity white, watching Jack Lemmon steal the show for the umpteenth time as Daphne: young is good, must be sporty, a tasteful dresser, a professional, preferably finance. It was never going to happen.