Feeling her desire for the old unshared intimacy too great to be borne without tears, she rose, walked to the farther end of the room, held the curtains apart, and stood there mastered for a moment.

The grief itself was not ignoble; the sting of it lay in the fact that she had been led to this act of treachery against herself.

Trapped, cheated, robbed, first by Ralph and then by Katharine, she seemed all dissolved in humiliation, and bereft of anything she could call her own.

Tears of weakness welled up and rolled down her cheeks.

But tears, at least, she could control, and would this instant, and then, turning, she would face Katharine, and retrieve what could be retrieved of the collapse of her courage.
She turned.