"Sentiment in such a woman as I! 'A spectacle for Gods and men,' you are saying--are you not?
And perhaps sentiment with me is only an ancient instinct, a latent ancestral quality for which I, ages later, have no use." She was laughing easily.

"No use for sentiment, as our bodies have no use for that fashionable little cul-de-sac, you know, though wise men say it once served its purpose, too.

...

Stephen Siward, what do you think of me now ?" "I am learning," he replied simply.
"What, if you please ?" "Learning a little about what I am losing." "You mean--me ?" "Yes." She bent forward impulsively, balancing her body on the pool's rim with both arms, dropping her knee until her ankles swung interlocked above the water.

"Listen," she said in a low, distinct voice: "What you lose is no other man's gain! If I warm and expand in your presence--if I say clever things sometimes--if I am intelligent, sympathetic, and amusing--it is because of you.