It was not that fascination which Bella aroused, the adventuress, the siren, the gorgon.

In Constance there was something different.

She was a woman of the world, a man's woman.

Then, too, she was so brutally frank in inviting his confidences.
Over and over he turned the answer he had intended to make.

He caught her eye again and knew that it was of no use.
"Yes," he muttered, as a cloud spread over his face at not being able, as usual, to let the gay life put the truth out of his mind.