All the spirit in her was broken--crushed.
"But why, my darling?
Why ?" The thin arms held her tighter, warm lips kissed her neck and shoulders.

"Did he treat you badly--did he ?" "No!" Janet gleaned much in the directness of that answer.
"Doesn't he care for you ?" She knew then that Sally cared for him.
"I don't know.

How could I know ?" "He hasn't told you so, one way or the other ?" "No." "But you think he doesn't ?" "Oh, I don't know." "Then what makes you so frightfully unhappy ?" "Because I'm never going to see him again." The words were thick, choked almost in her throat.
"Oh, then he doesn't care," said Janet, softly.
"Yes, he does!" retorted Sally, wildly.

"He does care, only--only--" "Only what ?" "Only, he thinks too little of himself and--and too much of me.

He says he's not the sort of man I ought to have anything to do with"-- the words were rushing from her now--the torrent of earth that a landslip sets free.