"No, Denham, I have no illusions about that young woman.

I think I made that plain to her to-night.

But don't run away with a false impression," he continued eagerly, turning and linking his arm through Denham's, as though to prevent him from escaping; and, thus compelled, Denham passed the monitory lamp-post, to which, in passing, he breathed an excuse, for how could he break away when Rodney's arm was actually linked in his?
"You must not think that I have any bitterness against her--far from it.
It's not altogether her fault, poor girl.

She lives, you know, one of those odious, self-centered lives--at least, I think them odious for a woman--feeding her wits upon everything, having control of everything, getting far too much her own way at home--spoilt, in a sense, feeling that every one is at her feet, and so not realizing how she hurts--that is, how rudely she behaves to people who haven't all her advantages.
Still, to do her justice, she's no fool," he added, as if to warn Denham not to take any liberties.

"She has taste.