"Lots of men, good men, make a mistake, one mistake, about things like that. He'll be all right now—with his boy."
"He's had a love affair, repented of it—and probably started another since that event. The child, if I remember, is about five months old." Still with her gaze direct, the Nun laughed. Vivien flushed. "There's no other way to take it," the Nun assured her.
Vivien spoke low; her cheeks red, her eyes dim. "I gave him all my heart, oh, so readily—and such trust! Doris, did he ever make love to you?"
"As a general rule I don't tell tales. In this case I feel free to say that he did."
Vivien's smile was woeful. "What, he wanted to marry you too once?"
"Oh no, he never wanted to marry me, Vivien."
It was drastic treatment—and the doctor paid for it as well as the patient.
"But you went on being friends with him!"
"I became friends with him again—presently," the Nun corrected. "I suppose I don't come well out of it, according to your views. I know the difference there is between us in that way. Look at your life and mine! That's bound to make a difference. Besides, it would have been taking him much too seriously."
"I think you're rather hard, Doris."