Humph! I see how you loved me--just as you've loved fifty other women, as you love that snippy little Rita Sohlberg in the next room--the cat!--the dirty little beast!--the way you love Antoinette Nowak--a cheap stenographer! Bah! You don't know what the word means." And yet her voice trailed off into a kind of sob and her eyes filled with tears, hot, angry, aching.

Cowperwood saw them and came over, hoping in some way to take advantage of them.

He was truly sorry now--anxious to make her feel tender toward him once more.
"Aileen," he pleaded, "please don't be so bitter.

You shouldn't be so hard on me.

I'm not so bad.