She knew ten thousand reasons why things had not been made right, and the casual inference that such reasons could be lightly swept away as if by the mere wave of a hand, implied a power appertaining to a time seeming so lost forever that it was too much for her.
"Oh, Betty, Betty!" she cried, "you talk as if--you are so----!" The fact, so simple to the members of the abnormal class to which she of a truth belonged, the class which heaped up its millions, the absolute knowledge that there was a great deal of money in the world and that she was of those who were among its chief owners, had ceased to seem a fact, and had vanished into the region of fairy stories.
That she could not believe it a reality revealed itself to Bettina, as by a flash, which was also a revelation of many things.

There would be unpleasing truths to be learned, and she had not made her pilgrimage for nothing.

But--in any event--there were advantages without doubt in the circumstance which subjected one to being perpetually pointed out as a daughter of a multi-millionaire.

As this argued itself out for her with rapid lucidity, she bent and kissed Rosy once more.

She even tried to do it lightly, and not to allow the rush of love and pity in her soul to betray her.
"I talk as if--as if I were Betty," she said.