"I didn't know what to do—I was facing her," said her partner, Mrs. Chilten.
"It didn't matter greatly what you did," smiled Mrs. Burleston. "She didn't look at any one—she ignored us all."
"She doesn't care a rap what we do—and she has proved it by coming here," said Mrs. Westlake. "She has got pluck, all right."
"I should call it effrontery," said Mrs. Carstairs, "hardened effrontery."
"I think she is to be pitied," Mrs. Westlake remarked.
"Are you prepared to pity her by offering friendship?" Mrs. Carstairs asked.
"It doesn't look as if she were asking any one for either pity or friendship," was the answer. "Moreover, I've known Stephanie Lorraine a long time—and she isn't that sort."
"When a woman runs away from her husband with a man—and comes back, she isn't any sort, in my opinion," Mrs. Carstairs sniffed.
"I hope, for the honor of our sex, that your opinion isn't ours as a class," Mrs. Westlake smiled.
"On the basis of honor, Mrs. Lorraine could not be even considered," was the retort.