God, who created beauty in flowers and women, and knew to the full the uses thereof, did not set flowers in gardeners' shows nor women in ball-rooms.
Sophia had spoken strongly, vividly, of the vanity of what men call success, and the emptiness of what they call wealth, but Eliza, self-centred, did not enter into this wide theme.
"You despise me," she repeated sullenly, "because of what I have done." "What makes you think I despise you ?" She did not intend to draw a confession on the false supposition that Bates had already told all the story, but this was the result.

Eliza, with arms folded defiantly, stated such details of her conduct as she supposed, would render her repulsive, stated them badly, and evoked that feeling of repulsion that she was defying.
Sophia was too much roused to need time for thought.

"I cannot condemn you, for I have done as bad a thing as you have done, and for the same reason," she cried.
Eliza looked at her, and faltered in her self-righteousness.

"I don't believe it," she said rudely.

She fell back a pace or two, and took to sorting the piles of white coverlets mechanically.
"You did what you did because of everything in the world that you wanted that you thought you could get that way; and, for the same reason, I once agreed to marry a man I didn't like.