"Didn't you love—him?"
"I thought I did…. I was too young to know…. It doesn't matter now—"
"No, no, of course not. You made a ghastly mistake, but it's no more shame to you than it is to him. Besides, you thought you loved him."
"He could have made me. I was young enough…. But he let me see how absolutely wicked he was…. And then it was too late to ever love him."
"O Rita, Rita!—then you haven't ever even had the happiness of loving?
Have you?"
Rita did not answer.
"Have you, darling?"
Then Rita broke down and laid her head on Valerie's knees, crying as though her heart would break.
"That's the terrible part of it," she sobbed—"I really do love a man, now…. Not that first one … and there's nothing to do about it—nothing, Valerie, nothing—because even if he asked me to marry him I can't, now—"
"Because you—"