All of her but her eyes seemed frozen. The great bouquet lay at her feet where she had dropped it. Her hands were clenched.
Towne laid his hand on hers. “My dear—it’s dreadful.”
“Don’t——”
“Don’t what?”
“Be sorry.”
“But he’s a cur——”
“It doesn’t do any good to call him names, Uncle Fred.”
“I think you must look upon it as a great escape, Edith.”
“Escape from what?”
“Unhappiness.”