MISS REED: "And you're not afraid that you wrong yourself?"

MISS SPAULDING: "Not the least."

MISS REED: "Well, be it so--as they say in novels. I will not
contradict you; I will not say you are my BEST friend; I will merely
say that you are my ONLY friend. Come here, Henrietta. Draw up your
chair, and put your little hand in mine."

MISS SPAULDING, with severe distrust: "What do you want, Ethel
Reed?"

MISS REED: "I want--I want--to talk it over with you."

MISS SPAULDING, recoiling: "I knew it! Well, now, we've talked it
over enough; we've talked it over till there's nothing left of it."

MISS REED: "Oh, there's everything left! It remains in all its
original enormity. Perhaps we shall get some new light upon it."
She extends a pleading hand towards Miss Spaulding. "Come,
Henrietta, my only friend, shake!--as the 'good Indians' say. Let
your Ethel pour her hackneyed sorrows into your bosom. Such an
uncomfortable image, it always seems, doesn't it, pouring sorrows
into bosoms! Come!"

MISS SPAULDING, decidedly: "No, I won't! And you needn't try
wheedling any longer. I won't sympathize with you on that basis at
all."

MISS REED: "What shall I try, then, if you won't let me try