Georgie raises her great violet eyes to his, that are now dark and deep with passionate anger and contempt.
"She is not the only miserable woman in the world," she says, in a low, quick tone.
"No, I suppose not. But what an unsympathetic tone you use! Surely you can feel for her?"
"Feel for her! Yes. No woman can have as much compassion for her as I have."
"That is putting it rather strongly, is it not? You scarcely know her; hardly ever spoke to her. Clarissa Peyton, for instance, must think more pitifully of her than you can."
"I hope it will never be Clarissa's lot to compassionate any one in the way I do her."
"You speak very bitterly."
"Do I? I think very bitterly."
"What do you mean?" demands he, suddenly, straightening himself and drawing up his tall figure to its fullest height. His tone is almost stern.
"Nothing. There is nothing to be gained by continuing this conversation."