The charm of her beauty overshone these things.

As she busied herself among my hooks and eyes, I saw our two reflections, in a glass--she who had loved John for years, and I who had only known him for a few short months.
As I went down the stairs with Rachel, I told myself it was true what John said, that I should get over it.

The drawing-room was full of gay people, and my first thought was, looking round it, that there was no man there equal to John--no woman there equal to Rachel.

Why had I thrust myself between them?
When John took my hand with just his old loving pressure, the first wave of despair broke over me.

"Get over it ?" I asked myself; but that was all.