Champneys felt that she had
shamed his name, belittled the sacred Family which was his fetish;
Glenn thought she had made a fool of him for her own amusement.
Never again would he trust a woman, he told himself. And in his pain
and shame, his smarting sense of having been duped, his hideous
revulsion of feeling, he spoke out brutally. Nancy was left in no
doubt as to the estimation in which he now held her. And she
understood that it was his pride, even more than his love, that
suffered.
She made no further attempt to explain or to exculpate herself; what
was the use? She knew that had they changed places, had Glenn been
in her shoes and she in his, her judgment had not been thus swift
and merciless. Her larger love would have understood, and pitied,
and forgiven. Pride! They talked of Pride, and they talked of Name.
But she could only feel that the one love she had ever known, or
perhaps ever was to know, was going from her, must go from her,
unforgiving, as if she had done it some irreparable wrong.
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