Very soon, however, she began to think—not so much of what she had said—but of what Kate had said. Many of Kate's sentences were unpleasantly vivid in her mind. They seemed, indeed, to stand out in letters of flame, and they began to burn, and burn, and burn. These were some of them:
“William says that Bertram has been completely out of fix over something, and as gloomy as an owl for weeks past.”
“A woman is at the bottom of it—... you are that woman.”
“You can't make him happy.”
“Bertram never was—and never will be—a marrying man.”
“Girls have never meant anything to him but a beautiful picture to paint. And they never will.”
“Up to this winter he's always been a carefree, happy, jolly fellow, and you know what beautiful work he has done. Never before has he tied himself to any one girl until last fall.”
“Now what has it been since?”
“He's been so moody, so irritable, so fretted over his work, so unlike himself; and his picture has failed, dismally.”
“Do you want to ruin his career?”