"She told me ... a little about you and her. Be fair to her. Remember how she has been brought up. All her life it has been drilled into her that she must make a good match. It's a shameful thing. I hate it. But ... what can a girl like Joyce do?"
"You justify her?"
"I understand her. A decision was forced on her. She had no time to choose. And—if you'll forgive my saying so—I think Joyce did wisely, since she is what she is."
"Of course she did," he answered bitterly.
"Think of her. She doesn't love him, but she sacrifices her feeling to what she considers her duty."
"Shall we substitute ambition for duty?"
"If you like. Her position is not a happy one, but she must smile and be gay and hide her heartache. You can afford to be generous, Mr. Kilmeny."
"I've been a fool," he admitted dryly. "The turn that things have taken is the best possible one for me. But I'm not quite prepared to thank Miss Seldon yet for having awakened me."
She saw that his vanity was stung more than his heart. His infatuation for her had been of the senses. The young woman shifted to another issue.