I washed dishes in the hotel kitchen--I who had a millionaire uncle in Detroit and had been fed on tales of wealth and culture by a mother who remembered her own youth and was too ignorant of my real nature to see the harm she was doing.
I washed dishes and ate my own heart out in shame and longing--bitter shame and frenzied longing, which you must rate at their full force if you would know my story and how I became linked to this man.
"I was sixteen when we first met.

He was not then what he is now, but he was handsome enough to create an excitement in town and to lift the girl he singled out into an enviable prominence.

Unfortunately, I was that girl.

I say unfortunately, because his good looks failed to arouse in me more than a passing admiration; and in accepting his attentions, I consulted my necessities and pride rather than the instincts of my better nature.

When he asked me to marry him I recoiled.