It doesn't matter to me, how little she thinks of my aims and my methods.

I'm quite content to do my work with what artistic conception I've got without analyzing its quality--I'm thankful enough to have any.

Besides, I'm not sure about the finality of her opinion--" "You needn't be!" Kendal interrupted, with scorn.
"But what hurts--like a knife--is that part about my insincerity.

I _haven't_ been honest with her--I haven't! From the very beginning I've criticised her privately.
I've felt all sorts of reserves and qualifications about her, and concealed them--for the sake of--of I don't know what--the pleasure I had in knowing her, I suppose." "It seems to me pretty clear, from this precious communication, that she was quietly reciprocating," Kendal said bluntly.
"That doesn't clear me in the least.

Besides, when she had made up her mind she had the courage to tell me what she thought; there was some principle in that.