"
They looked into each other's troubled eyes; and he said: "If she has
done this it is the worse of two evils she has chosen. To live with him
was bad enough, but this is the limit."
"I know it. She cannot afford to do such a thing again. . . . Phil, what
is the matter with her? She simply cannot be sane and do such a
thing--can she?"
"I don't know," he said.
"Well, I do. She is not sane. She has made herself horridly conspicuous
among conspicuous people; she has been indiscreet to the outer edge of
effrontery. Even that set won't stand it always--especially as their men
folk are quite crazy about her, and she leads a train of them about
wherever she goes--the little fool!
"And now, if it's true, that there's to be a separation--what on earth
will become of her? I ask you, Phil, for I don't know. But men know what
becomes eventually of women who slap the world across the face with
over-ringed fingers.
"If--if there's any talk about it--if there's newspaper talk--if
there's a divorce--who will ask her to their houses? Who will condone
this thing? Who will tolerate it, or her? Men--and men only--the odious
sort that fawn on her now and follow her about half-sneeringly.
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