"We really ought to be locked away in harems.

No doubt Dory trusts me absolutely--that's because other women are no temptation to him--that is, I suppose they aren't.

If he were different, he'd be afraid I had his weakness--we all think everybody has at least a touch of our infirmities.
Of course I can be trusted; I've sense enough not to have my head turned by what may have been a mere clever attempt to smooth over the past." Then she remembered Ross's look at her hand, at her wedding ring, and Henrietta's confirmation of her own diagnosis.

"But why should _that_ interest _me_," she thought, impatient with herself for lingering where her ideal of self-respect forbade.

"I don't love Ross Whitney.