And after an instant, during which Della surveyed him with scorn unspeakable, she strode stiffly to a chair in a far corner of the room and dropped into it.
Lawler had been little affected.

He pitied her because of her perverted moral sense, which sought an honorable marriage from a wild, immoral impulse.

He pitied her because she was what she was--a wanton who was determined by scheme and wile to gain her ends.

And he shrewdly suspected that she was not so much concerned for her reputation as she was eager to achieve what she had determined upon.

Defeat to her kind is intolerable.
"Gary Warden will never marry me if he discovers that I have been here," declared Della from the corner.
"You said you did not love Warden, Miss Wharton," Lawler reminded her.
"You wouldn't marry a man you merely liked, would you ?" "We have been engaged for a year.