"Ask," he said kindly. "I will answer you gladly."

"Gladly?" she retorted, with an incredulous shrug. "In point of fact
you ought to feel uncomfortable whenever you see me; but things do not
always turn out as they ought, in Memphis or in the world; for what do
you men care what becomes of a poor girl like me? Do not imagine that
I mean to reproach you; God forbid! I do not even owe you a grudge.
If anyone can live such a thing down I can. Do not you think so?
Everything is admirably arranged for me; I cannot fail to do well.
I am very rich, and not ugly, and I shall have a hundred suitors yet.
Oh, I am a most enviable creature! I have had one lover already, and the
next will be more faithful, at any rate, and not throw me over so
ruthlessly as the first.--Do not you think so?"

"I hope so," said Oriole gravely. "Bitter as the cup is that you offer
me to drink. . ."

"Well?"

"I can only repeat that I must even drink it, since the fault was mine.
Nothing would so truly gladden me as to be able to atone in some degree
for my sin against you."

"Oh dear no!" she scornfully threw in. "Our hopes shall not be fixed so
high as that! All is at an end between us, and if you ever were anything
to me, you are nothing to me now--absolutely nothing. One hour in the
past we had in common; it was short indeed, but to me--would you believe
it?--a very great matter. It aged the young creature, whom you, but
yesterday, still regarded as a mere child--that much I know--with amazing
rapidity; aye, and made a worse woman of her than you can fancy."