"Love him," said Valerie. "What else can I do?"
"You could try not to."
"I don't want to."
"You had better."
"Why?"
"Because," said Rita, deliberately, "if you really love him you'll either become his wife or his mistress; and it's a pretty rotten choice either way."
Valerie blushed scarlet;
"Rotten—choice?"
"Certainly. You know perfectly well what your position would be when his family and his friends learned that he'd married his model. No girl of any spirit would endure it—no matter how affable his friends might perhaps pretend to be. No girl of any sense would ever put herself in such a false position…. I tell you, Valerie, it's only the exceptional man who'll stand by you. No doubt Louis Neville would. But it would cost him every friend he has—and probably the respect of his parents. And that means misery for you both—because he couldn't conceal from you what marrying you was costing him—"
[Illustration: "Valerie's lips trembled on the edge of a smile as she bent lower over her sewing.">[