"How dull. It's much more fun getting a few things for oneself. And
when the only thing in all the world you want is your freedom, do you
imagine he'll give you that?"

Lorraine got up suddenly, thrusting her hands out before her, as if to
ward off some vague fear.

"Hal, you are brutal to-day. What is the use of talking like that
now?... Why did you go to America?... Perhaps if you hadn't gone _"

"Give me a cigarette," said Hal, with a little catch in her voice, "I
want soothing. At the present moment you're a greater strain than
Dudley talking down at me from a pyramid of worn-out prejudices. I
don't know why my two Best-Belovèds should both be cast in a mould to
weigh so heavily on my shoulders."

Sitting on the table as usual, she puffed vigorously at her cigarette,
blowing clouds of smoke, through which Lorraine could not see that her
eyes were dim with tears. For Hal's unerring instinct told her that,
at a critical moment, Lorraine had taken a wrong path.

Lorraine, however, was not looking in Hal's direction. She had moved
to the window, and stood with her back to the room, gazing across the
Park, hiding likewise misty, tell-tale eyes.

Suddenly, as Hal continued silent, she turned to her with a swift
movement of half-expressed protest.

"Hal! you shan't condemn me, you shan't even judge me. Probably you
can't understand, because your life is so different - always has been