He was that sort--brave enough, but a hopeless rotter." Jack's voice held a curious mixture of tenderness and contempt.
"Women always fall in love with that sort of fellow," he said.

"Heaven knows why.

But you'd no right to lose your heart to him, little 'un.

You knew--you always knew--he wasn't the man for you." She clung to him in silence for a space, then lifted her face.

"All right, Jack," she said.
He looked at her closely for a moment.