I was a little ashamed to." At the close of her confession, which involved only Knowles, and was incomplete at that, Cowperwood burned with a kind of angry resentment.
Why trifle with a lying prostitute?
That she was an inconsequential free lover at twenty-one was quite plain.

And yet there was something so strangely large about the girl, so magnetic, and she was so beautiful after her kind, that he could not think of giving her up.
She reminded him of himself.
"Well, Stephanie," he said, trampling under foot an impulse to insult or rebuke and dismiss her, "you are strange.

Why didn't you tell me this before?
I have asked and asked.

Do you really mean to say that you care for me at all ?" "How can you ask that ?" she demanded, reproachfully, feeling that she had been rather foolish in confessing.

Perhaps she would lose him now, and she did not want to do that.