I felt that she was conscious of this betrayal, under the gaze of the policeman, and she laughed to distract his attention.

My heart ached for her.

I thought of a meadow-lark manoeuvering to hide the place where her nest lies.

Poor, beautiful Maxine! In spite of her pride, her high courage, the veneer of hardness which her experience of the world had given, she was infinitely pathetic in my eyes; and though I had never loved her, though I did love another woman, I would have given my life gladly at this minute if I could have saved her from the catastrophe she dreaded..