"What of it?
I don't guide my actions by it." "Do you ever dream of Mildred ?" she asked.
"Sometimes," he admitted reluctantly.
"Ever of other--er--people ?" she pursued.
"Yes," he replied, "sometimes of other people.

But what has that to do with it?
I cannot help my dreams.

My conduct I can help and I do help." Constance had not expected him to be frank to the extent of taking her into his confidence.

Still, she felt that he had told her just enough.
She discerned a vague sense of jealousy in his tone which told her more than words that whatever he might have said or done to Mildred he resented, unconsciously, the manner in which she had striven to gain sympathy outside.
"Fortunately he knows nothing of the new theories," she said to herself.
"Mrs.Dunlap," he resumed, "since you have been frank with me, I must be equally frank with you.

I think you are far too sensible a woman not to understand in just what a peculiar position my wife has placed me." He had taken out of his pocket a few sheets of closely typewritten tissue paper.