"I don't know," answered Constance slowly.
"Humph! I do. Are you going to pay, Connie?"
"If I did pay—that way—would I be half as rotten as Freddie?" demanded the wife savagely.
"That depends. Are you in love with Cary?"
"I don't know," muttered the beauty. "I thought I was. Then I found out about Freddie and it sickened me so that I don't know where I stand."
Dee ruminated. "Perhaps that's why Freddie did it. He's no fool."
"He's a drunkard. That's worse."
"Poor old Con! I wonder what Cary thinks of it all."
"That's what I'm afraid to think about."