Yet she was proof against something greater than that.

And I know--because I know her unconscious self which her dreams reveal, her inmost soul--I know her better than you do, better than she does herself.

I know that even now she is as good and true and would be as loving as--" Constance had paused and taken a step toward the drawing room.

Before she knew it, the portieres flew apart and an eager little woman had rushed past her and flung her arms about the neck of the man.
Caswell's features were working, as he gently disengaged her arms, still keeping one hand.

Half shoving her aside, ignoring Constance, he had faced Drummond.