Would have chastened?
Was it not, then, chastened?
Looking at her now, he knew that it was not.

It was still there, he felt; but how much else was also there--of charm, of elusiveness, of wit, of mental adroitness, of joyous eagerness to discover a new thought or a new thing! She was a creature of rare splendour, variety and vanity.
Why should he deny himself the pleasure of her society?
His intellectual side would always be stimulated by her, she would always "incite him to mental riot," as she had often said.

Time had flown, love had flown, and passion was dead; but friendship stayed.

Yes, friendship stayed--in spite of all.

Her conduct had made him blush for her, had covered him with shame, but she was a woman, and therefore weak--he had come to that now.