It was slowly becoming evident to Neville that Valerie's was the stronger character--not through any genius for tenacity nor on account of any domineering instinct--but because, mistaken or otherwise in her ethical reasoning, she was consistent, true to her belief, and had the courage to live up to it.

And this made her convictions almost unassailable.
Slavery to established custom of any kind she smilingly disdained, refusing to submit to restrictions which centuries of social usage had established, when such social restrictions and limitations hampered or annoyed her.
Made conscious by the very conventions designed to safeguard unconsciousness; made wise by the unwisdom of a civilisation which required ignorance of innocence, she had as yet lost none of her sweetness and confidence in herself and in a world which she considered a friendly one at best and, at worst, more silly than vicious.
Her life, the experience of a lonely girlhood in the world, wide and varied reading, unwise and otherwise, and an intelligence which needed only experience and training, had hastened to a premature maturity her impatience with the faults of civilisation.

And in the honest revolt of youth, she forgot that what she rejected was, after all, civilisation itself, and that as yet there had been offered no acceptable substitute for its faulty codification.
To do one's best was to be fearlessly true to one's convictions and let God judge; that was her only creed.

And from her point of view humanity needed no other.
So she went about the pleasure and happiness of living with a light heart and a healthy interest, not doubting that all was right between her and the world, and that the status quo must endure.
And endless misunderstandings ensued between her and the man she loved.
She was a very busy business girl and he objected.

She went about to theatres and parties and dinners and concerts with other men; and Neville didn't like it.