Mrs. Tremaine.

Yes. Fancy a woman making that mistake twice! But, you see, I was in
an equivocal position. I had left my first husband, Miss Macfarlane;
I don't want to conceal my misdeeds.

Miss Macfarlane.

Oh, don't expect paving stones from an old woman like me! I judge
every case on its own merits. I know what men are, though I've been
content to gain my experience at my friends' expense. I tell ye I
know more about the ins and outs of marriages than most married
women, just as the curler on the bank sees most of the game. You
mayn't have been anything worse than a fool, and ye mayn't have been
even that.

Mrs. Tremaine.

Thank you. I was a fool, of course. You see, my first marriage was a
mistake altogether. It was my mother's doing. I knew nothing of
marriage, or love either, for that matter. That came afterwards,
and--all the scandal.

Miss Macfarlane.

And may I ask, young woman, have you run away from your second
husband? You say that marriage was a mistake too.

Mrs. Tremaine.