Gertrude caught her friend in her arms, so as to shield her face. She disapproved, generally speaking, of confidences of this kind, considering them bad for both giver and receiver; but this particular confidence she felt to be simply intolerable.
"Gerty, what have I done, what have I said?"
"Nothing, really nothing, Con, dear old girl. You have told me nothing."
A pause; then Conny said, between the sobs which at last had broken forth: "How can I bear my life? How can I bear it?"
Gertrude was very pale.
"We all have to bear things, Conny; often this kind of thing, we women."
"I don't think I can."
"Yes, you will. You have no end of pluck. One day you are going to be very happy."
"Never, Gerty. We rich girls always end up with sneaks—no decent person comes near us."