I do not say so because I do not personally like Margaret Edes, but you must have courage and face it." "I have not courage enough," said Annie and she felt that she had not, for it was one of the awful tasks of the world which was before her: The viewing the mutilated face of love itself.
"You must," said Alice.

She put an arm around the slight figure and drew the fair head to her broad bosom, her maternal bosom, which served her friends in good stead, since it did not pillow the heads of children.

Friends in distress are as children to the women of her type.
"Darling," she said in her stately voice from which the anger had quite gone.

"Darling, you must face it.

Margaret did read that chapter from your book and she told, or as good as told everybody that she had written it." Then Annie sobbed outright and the tears came.
"Oh," she cried, "Oh, Alice, how she must want success to do anything like that, poor, poor Margaret! Oh, Alice!" "How she must love herself," said Alice firmly.