Owen Oliver

“ I suppose you can take my word, Margaret?" She nodded. "Violet is a good woman—a very good woman. But I do not care greatly for her."
Margaret leaned back in her chair and sighed. I did not understand the sigh—then.
"We will say that she is a good woman," she said; "I beg your pardon—a very good woman. Her goodness is not of the kind to prevent an open scandal."
"Openness does not make the offense."
"It is the open offense that the world judges."
"It is not a question of social decorum, but of—people's lives."
"The lives of people who live in society." ”

“ The social forces will be on your side."
"People will not blame me?"
"No."
"My position and power for good will be unimpaired?"
"Yes."
She smiled, quietly. There was a pink flush in her cheeks—I had never seen her look more lovely.
"Perhaps it will be for the best!"
I sat up in my chair and gripped the arms. "How about—them?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I have told you that I do not care for him. You cannot expect me to care for her."
"I care very much for him; I also care——"
"For her?" Margaret's voice was shrill.
"For the honor of a good woman. She is a good woman." ”

“ I've been on the point of suggesting a separation, time after time; but I've thought of—what you said. She has no one else—I almost wish she had."
"She could have." He raised his eyebrows. "Man alive, don't you know what a beautiful woman she is?" ”