“There is no way of my ever forgiving you,” she said. “No way of my ever tolerating you, or anything you stand for again. You are utterly—utterly—utterly detestable in my eyes.”
“Is—is that so?” Billy stammered, dizzied by the suddenness of the onslaught.
“I—I’ve got some decent hold on my pride and self-respect—even if Nancy hasn’t, and I’m not going to be subjugated like a cave woman by mere brute force either.”
“Aren’t you?” said Billy weakly, his mind in a whirl still from the lightning-like overthrow of all his theories of action.
“I’m not going to do what Nancy is going to do, just out of sheer temperamental weakness, and—and tendency to follow the line of least resistance.”
Billy had no idea of the significance of her last phrase, and let it go unheeded. Caroline turned and walked away from him, her head high.
“But, good lord, Nancy isn’t going to do it,” he called after her retreating figure, but all the answer he got was the silken swish of her petticoat as she took the stairs.