Helen was not listening, was not aware that she had interrupted as she said, "Do you think Mr. Gallatin could be in love with some married woman—of—of our class?"
"I suspect so," replied Courtney, gazing calmly into her eyes.
"I'll not believe it!" cried Helen. "I'll not believe it!"
"You're like all girls. Because your own head's full of marriage, you think every man who's polite to you, or flirts a little to make the time pass more agreeably, is about to send for the preacher. Now, frankly, has Basil ever made love to you?"
"No," admitted Helen. "But—" She halted.
"But what?" came from Courtney sharp and arresting as a shot.
"I feel he is fond of me," confessed Helen.
Courtney laughed harshly. "All men are fond of all good-looking women—especially in the spring. Don't be a fool, Helen."
"But a married woman has no right to him!"
Courtney flushed, and her eyes flashed. "And how do you know? And what right have you to judge? Are you God?"