"In the drawing-room one afternoon when he had walked home with me from a tea."
"What happened the next time you met him?"
"I never saw him again—that is, alone."
Hedworth's face and tone changed suddenly. Both softened. "Why not?"
She raised her head from the back of the sofa and lifted her chin defiantly. "I did not dare—if you will know. Carnath came along shortly after, and I took him as soon as he offered himself. Why do you look so pleased? The one was as bad as the other, only in the course I took there was no scandal."
"Which is the point. Scandal and snubs and vulgar insinuation in print and out of it would have demoralized you. How do you feel towards this man now? If he were free and came for you would you marry him?"
She shook her head, and looked up at him, smiling and blushing again. "He is no more to me than one of the book-heroes I used to fancy myself in love with."
"Why didn't he get a divorce and marry you? I thought any one could get a divorce in the States."
"You English people know so much about the United States! You are willing to believe anything and to know nothing. I really think you feel that your dignity would be compromised if you knew as much about America as we know about Europe. Your attitude is like that of old people to a new invention which is too remarkable for their powers of appreciation, so they take refuge in disdain."
He smiled, as he always did when her patriotism flamed. "You haven't answered my question."