"Of course it was!" fiercely defended Louise Bartholomew. "Nobody else's fault! I don't consider it a bit of an excuse for a man, just because he is unhappily married, to play around with other women—especially unmarried women."
"Of course not," agreed Reba dully.
After Louise Bartholomew had finally left her room, Reba sat motionless on the foot of her bed, gazing at her folded hands, trying to comprehend just what had happened. Married! Is that what Louise had said? Married! Chadwick Booth! Why, if that were so, then she mustn't see him again, must she? She mustn't see him even this afternoon. She must never see him again. And she loved him! Tighter still she clasped her hands, clenched her crossed knees, and sat very still, staring into space. Later she became aware that one of her feet, so long held in one position, had become numb. Oh, how she wished that the same numbness might creep over her entire body, brain, and consciousness. Married! She reiterated the merciless word. Married! Married!
When Louise Bartholomew had let drop her information about Dr. Booth, she little guessed that she had struck a sword into Reba's heart. It had not occurred to her as possible that Rebecca Jerome could fill the position she did at the Alliance, and not know that Chadwick Booth was married, considering whom he had married—Virginia Cross, whose father was a wealthy New York banker, of an old long-established family. Why, everybody knew that Chadwick Booth was married, even Mamie and Lollie Terrence (Louise had heard them speak of it). Everybody knew that his marriage, while extremely advantageous to his position,
