Worse, for I'd do very badly what he has learned to do well." "To be a well-bred, well-mannered gentleman is no small achievement," said she with a sweetness that was designed to turn to gall after it reached him.
He surveyed her tranquilly.

She remembered that look; it was the same he had had the morning he met her at the Waldorf elevator and took her away and married her.

She knew that the crisis had come and that he was ready.

And she?
Never had she felt less capable, less resolute.
"I've been doing a good deal of thinking--thinking about us--these last few days--since I inflicted that scratch on you," said he.

"Among other things, I've concluded you know as little about what constitutes a real gentleman as I do; also, that you have no idea what it is in you that makes you a lady--so far as you are one." She glanced at him in fright, and that expression of hers betrayed the fundamental weakness in her--the weakness that underlies all character based upon the achievements of others, not upon one's own.