“You stupid bitch. She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. I think that there is no better friend for a girl than a man rather older than herself. She knew she was a monster and so did they. But men are so careless, there's no trusting anything to them! However, I must try to brazen it out. ” He cried traitorously. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. ” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot.
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