And there was a pang in the knowledge, and with it a drowsy lassitude, as of relief and certainty.
The reason now was there; it gazed at her.

Not that she couldn't have seen it for herself, but pity, loneliness, the craving for love had blinded her.

Franklin was a funny little man, and that was why she could not marry him.

And now, with the lassitude, the relief from long tension, came a feeling of cold and sickness.
Helen, baleful in her unconsciousness, had again closed her eyes.

Althea looked at her, and she was aware of being angry with Helen.