No man except Carnac, and that he had done it was like a lash upon the raw skinless flesh.

If she had been asked by the Almighty whether she loved Carnac, she would have said she did not know.

This was not a matter of love; but of womanhood, of self-respect, of the pride of one who cannot ask for herself what she wants in the field of love, who must wait to be wooed and won.
"You don't think I'm straight," he said in protest.

"You think I'm no good, that I'm a fraud.

You're wrong.