Edith Nesbit

“ It was not the first time, naturally, that Vernon had "told all about it" with a sympathetic woman-hand on his shoulder. He knew the strategic value of confidences. But always he had made the confidences fit the occasion—serve the end he had in view. Now, such end as had been in view was gained. He knew that it was only a matter of time now, before she should tell him of her own accord, what he could never by any brutality have forced her to tell. And the temptation to speak, for once, the truth about himself was overmastering. It is a luxury one can so very rarely afford. ”

“ He proceeded to tell her Betty's secret, the death of Madame Gautier and Betty's bid for freedom.
"I see," she said slowly. "Well, there's no great harm done. But I wish you'd trusted me before. You wanted to know, at the beginning of this remarkable interview," she laughed rather forlornly, "what I had told Miss Desmond. Well, I went to see her, and when she told me that you'd told her you were engaged to me, I—I just acted the jealous a little bit. I thought I was helping you—playing up to you. ”

“ Vernon stood as if turned to stone. Nothing had ever astonished him so much as those four words, spoken in his own voice, "I mean to marry." He repeated them. "I mean to marry Miss Desmond, if she'll have me. And it's your doing."
"Of course," she shrugged her shoulders. "Naturally it would be. Won't you sit down? You look so uncomfortable. Those French tragedy scenes with the hero hat in one hand and gloves in the other always seem to me so comic."
That was her score, the first. He put down the hat and gloves and came towards her. ”

“ A word to Betty—and—
"But you promised to help him."
"That was before he kissed me."
"But a promise is a promise."
"Yes,—and your life's your life. You'll never have another."
She stood still, her hands hanging by her sides—clenched hands that the rings bit into.
"He will go to her early to-morrow. And she'll accept him, of course. She's never seen anyone else, the little fool."
She knew that she herself would have taken him, would have chosen him as the chief among ten thousand.
"She could have Temple. She'd be much happier with Temple. She and Eustace would make each other wretched. ”

“ He met her half-way, took her in his arms and kissed her forehead very gently, very tenderly.
"My dearest Jasmine lady," he said, "it sounds an impertinence and I daresay you won't believe it, but I was never so sorry in my life as I am now. I'm a beast, and I don't deserve to live. Think what a beast I am—and try to hate me." ”

“ You see, she's so different from other girls—she's—"
"She isn't," Lady St. Craye interrupted, "except that she's the one you love; she's not a bit different from other girls. No girl's different from other girls." ”