Etta had taken away from her the only man whom Catrina could ever love all through her life.

The girl was simple enough, unsophisticated enough, never to dream of compromise.

She never for a moment entertained the cheap, consolatory thought that in time she would get over it; she would marry somebody else, and make that compromise which is responsible for more misery in this world than ever is vice.

In her great solitude, growing to womanhood as she had in the vast forest of Tver, she had learned nearly all that she knew from the best teacher, Nature; and she held the strange, effete theory that it is wicked for a woman to marry a man she does not love, or to marry at all for any reason except love.

St.Paul and a few others held like theories, but nous avons change tout cela.
"Where does she live ?" asked Catrina.
"In London." They walked on in silence for a few moments.