Miriam sat thinking. She imagined the two, the snatched caress, the other man alone and unconscious.
“Would you call that treachery to the other person?”
“It would depend upon which she liked best.”
“That’s just the difficulty.”
“Oh. That’s awful.”
“Don’t you think a kiss, just a kiss—might be,—well—neither here nor there.”
“Well, if it’s nothing, there’s nothing in the whole thing. If there is anything—you can’t talk about just kisses.”
“Dreadful Miriam.”
“Do you believe in blunted sensibilities?” How funny that Mag should have led up to that new phrase ... but this was a case.
“You mean——”