body else, at intervals. It's the woman's business to see they don't get her."
Kay looked at her.
"If they do it isn't love."
"Nonsense! They're a polygamous lot. They can't help it; God made them that way. It has nothing to do with love, really. It's" she hesitated. Kay was married, but how could she discuss the occasional volcanic passions of men with her? "It's the nature of the beast," she finished lamely.
"Then you believe in infidelity?"
"You don't even know he was unfaithful. And of course I don't believe in infidelity; a clever woman keeps her husband faithful. That's all."
"I'm not clever, not that way."
"You're young," said Bessie. "You have a lot to learn."
She was puzzled, nevertheless. Where did happiness lie for this child-woman before her? To send her back to that dreadful little ranch house and poverty, was that the answer? If Henry only had an ounce of sense and would finance the man—but then Kay had said he would not accept help from them. That made it difficult, but also it showed that McNair had what Bessie had referred to before, namely, guts. Again, did the man want Kay back? His long silence, this cheap girl out there
"Have you seen Herbert?"
"Not yet. I daresay I shall have to, some time."
"But you're through with that?"
"Yes. I've spoiled his life, among the rest, but I"
"Spoiled his life!" said Bessie, getting up impatiently. "You have a lot to learn. Men can spoil women's lives; women enjoy unrequited affection. They hold on to it, dream about it. But men! Men don't remember anything unpleasant if they can help it. They wipe off the slate and start over again. It may please them for a while to think they are injured, but when that ceases to please them they stop."
"Then Herbert—?"
"It still pleases him, but he'll get over it."
