Little by little it grew calmer.
"After all it may not be the scoundrel's fault," he said in a tone of some magnanimity.

"I know what women are--treachery for treachery's sake.

Why should I destroy the poor wretch whose heart has probably been as scored as mine by the discovery of her treachery?
He is a fellow victim." "And perhaps you mightn't destroy him--if he's such a good boxer," said Pollyooly anxiously.
"I should certainly destroy him," said Hilary Vance with a dignified certainty.

"But to what purpose?
Would it give me back my unstained ideal?
No.

The ideal once tarnished never shines as bright again." His face was now calm--calm and growing sorrowful.