She would tell him EVERYTHING, and know the worst.
Perhaps he would never come; perhaps she should not be alive to meet him.
And so the days and nights slowly passed.

The solitude which her previous empty deceit had enabled her to fill with such charming visions now in her awakened remorse seemed only to protract her misery.

Had she been a more experienced, though even a more guilty, woman she would have suffered less.

Without sympathy or counsel, without even the faintest knowledge of the world or its standards of morality to guide her, she accepted her isolation and friendlessness as a necessary part of her wrongdoing.

Her only criterion was her enemy--Mrs.Fairfax--and SHE could seek her relief by joining her lover; but Mrs.Bunker knew now that she herself had never had one--and was alone! Mrs.Fairfax had broken openly with her husband; but SHE had DECEIVED hers, and the experience and reckoning were still to come.