She was a flirt--not above trying her arts on the man she had jilted.
"Why, didn't I write you?
Of course I did." "Well, if you did I never got the letter.

And if you were on the level you'd admit you never wrote." "How'd you find out then ?" she inquired curiously.
"I never knew for sure until your mother verified it." "Are you curious to know why I did break it off ?" "Not in the least." This reply shot the fire into her face, yet she still persisted in the expression of her sentimental motive.

She began to finger the medal on his breast.
"So, Mr.Soldier Hero, you didn't care ?" "No--not after I had been here ten minutes," he replied, bluntly.
She whirled from him, swiftly, her body instinct with passion, her expression one of surprise and fury.
"What do you mean by that ?" "Nothing I care to explain, except I discovered my love for you was dead--perhaps had been dead for a long time." "But you never discovered it until you _saw_ me--here--with Swann--dancing, drinking, smoking ?" "No.

To be honest, the shock of that enlightened me." "Daren Lane, I'm just what _you_ men have made me," she burst out, passionately.
"You are mistaken.

I beg to be excluded from any complicity in the--in whatever you've been made," he said, bitterly.