"That she owed it to the cause of her class not to marry a man of my class," answered Hull, believing that he was giving the exact and the only reason she assigned or had.
Jane gave a faint smile of disdain. "Women don't act from a sense of duty," she said.
"She's not the ordinary woman," said Hull. "You must remember she wasn't brought up as you and I were—hasn't our ideas of life. The things that appeal to us most strongly don't touch her. She knows nothing about them." He added, "And that's her great charm for me."
Jane nodded sympathetically. Her own case exactly. After a brief hesitation she suggested:
"Perhaps Selma's in love with—some one else." The pause before the vague "some one else" was almost unnoticeable.
"With Victor Dorn, you mean?" said Davy. "I asked her about that. No, she's not in love with him."
"As if she'd tell you!"
Davy looked at her a little scornfully. "Don't insinuate," he said. "You know she would. There's nothing of the ordinary tricky, evasive, faking woman about her. And although she's got plenty of excuse for being conceited, she isn't a bit so. She isn't always thinking about herself, like the girls of our class."
"I don't in the least wonder at your being in love with her, Davy," said Jane sweetly. "Didn't I tell you I admired your taste—and your courage?"
"You're sneering at me," said Davy. "All the same, it did take courage—for I'm a snob at bottom—like you—like all of us who've been brought up so foolishly—so rottenly. But I'm proud that I had the courage. I've had a better opinion of myself ever since. And if you have any unspoiled womanhood in you, you agree with me."