She usually sees through him--a marked difference between masculine and feminine love.

Catrina looked up sharply and caught his eyes resting on Etta.
"He does not love her--he does not love her!" was the thought that instantly leaped into her brain.
And if she had said it to him he would have contradicted her flatly and honestly, and in vain.
"Yes," the countess was saying with lazy volubility; "Paul is one of our oldest friends.

We are neighbors in the country, you know.

He has always been in and out of our house like one of the family.

My poor husband was very fond of him." "Is your husband dead, then ?" asked Etta in a low voice, with a strange haste.
"No; he is only in Siberia.