The very romantic, inconsequential way in which she narrated all this staggered, amused, and even fascinated him.
"But, Stephanie," he argued, curiously, "there must been some aftermath to all this.

What happened?
What did you do ?" "Nothing." She shook her head.
He had to smile.
"But oh, don't let's talk about it!" she pleaded.

"I don't want to.
It hurts me.

There was nothing more." She sighed, and Cowperwood meditated.

The evil was now done, and the best that he could do, if he cared for her at all--and he did--was to overlook it.