That's why I say so few among us ever comprehend the motives attributed to us in romance or in that parody of it called realism.

Love is rarer with us than men could ever believe--and I'm glad of it," she said maliciously, with a final snap of her pretty teeth.
"It was on that theory you advised me, I think," said Sylvia, looking into the fire.
"Advised you, child ?" "Yes--about accepting Howard." "Certainly.

Is it not a sound theory?
Doesn't it stand inspection?
Doesn't it wear ?" "It--wears," said Sylvia indifferently.

Grace looked up from her open book.

"Is anything amiss ?" she asked.
"I don't know." "Of course you know, child.