“Oh, Charlotte, I haven't done anything out of the way,” pleaded Rose, weakly.
“You have tried your best to get Barney Thayer all the time you have been pretending to be such a good friend to me. I don't know what you call out of the way.”
“Charlotte, don't—I haven't.”
“Yes, you have. I am going to tell you, once for all, what I think of you. You've been a false friend to me; and now when Barney don't notice you, you follow him up as no girl that thought anything of herself would. And you don't even care anything for him; you haven't even that for an excuse.”
“You don't know but what I do!” Rose cried out, desperately.
“Yes, I do know. If anybody else came along, you'd care for him just the same.”
“I shouldn't—Charlotte, I should never have thought of Barney if he—hadn't left you, you know I shouldn't.”
“That's no excuse,” said Charlotte, sternly.
“You said yourself he would never come back to you,” said Rose.
“Would you have liked me to have done so by you, if you had been in my place?”