But neither of you will mind that." Adelaide looked uncomfortable; Madelene took advantage of her abstraction to smile at the confession hinted in that look.
"As for Dory--" At that name Del colored and hung her head.
"As for Dory," repeated Madelene, not losing the chance to emphasize the effect, "he's no doubt fond of you.

But no matter what he--or you--may imagine, his fondness cannot be deeper than that of a man for a woman between whom and him there isn't the perfect love that makes one of two." "I don't understand his caring for me," cried Del.

"I can't believe he does." This in the hope of being contradicted.
But Madelene simply said: "Perhaps he'd not feel toward you as he seems to think he does if he hadn't known you before you went East and got fond of the sort of thing that attracts you in Ross Whitney.

Anyhow, Dory's the kind of man to be less unhappy over losing you than over keeping you when you didn't want to stay.

You may be like his eyes to him, but you know if that sort of man loses his sight he puts seeing out of the calculation and goes on just the same.