"Yes, I do," said Alice quickly, her eyes gleaming. "I consider that
a girl who lets a man marry her under false pretenses is a cheat."

"A strong word, my dear!"

"But not too strong."

"Wait a minute. Suppose she doesn't love him. What then?"

"Then she oughtn't to have married him."

"Yes, but it may have suited her to marry him."

"Then she should fulfill the bargain honestly and play the game
according to the rules. However modern and civilized people are,
they do that."

Joan shrugged her round white shoulders and flicked her cigarette
ash expertly into the china tray on the spindle-legged table at her
elbow. She was quite unmoved. Alice had always taken it upon herself
to lecture her about individualism--the enthusiastic little thing.
"Dear old girl," she said, "don't you remember that I always make my
own rules?"

"I know you do, but you can't tell me that Martin wants to go by
them--or that he'll be able to remain a knight long, while you're
going by one set and he's keen to go by another? Where will it end?"

"End? But why drag in the end when Martin and I are only at the
beginning?"