"Oh no, he never wanted to marry me, Vivien." It was drastic treatment--and the doctor paid for it as well as the patient. "But you went on being friends with him!" "I became friends with him again--presently," the Nun corrected. "I suppose I don't come well out of it, according to your views. I know the difference there is between us in that way. Look at your life and mine! That's bound to make a difference. Besides, it would have been taking him much too seriously." "I think you're rather hard, Doris." "Thank God, I am, my dear! I need it." "It's a terrible thing to make the mistake I did." "It's worse to go on with it." "I should have liked to go on with it. I feel as people must who've lost their religion." "Is that so sad, if the religion is proved not to be true?" "Yes, terribly sad." Vivien's back was to the street. She wept silently; none saw her tears save Doris. "I thought I had lost everything. It's worse to find that you never had anything, and have lost nothing." "It's good to find that out, when it's true," Doris persisted stoutly. "But I hope he won't happen on any more girls like you. With the proper people--his Mrs. Freeres and Lady Lucies--the thing's a farce. That's all right!" Her bitter ridicule pierced the armour of Vivien's recollection. With the proper people it was all a farce. She had taken it as a tragedy. Her tears ceased to flow, but her colour came hot again. "I don't know anything about those women--I never heard their names--but he seems to have insulted me almost as much as he insulted you." The Nun was relentless. "In both cases he considered, and still considers, that he paid a very high compliment. And he'll find lots of women to agree with him." "Doris, be kind to me. I've nobody else!" "The Lord forgive you for saying so! You've the luck of one girl in ten thousand." Now the Nun's colour grew a little hot; she raised herself on her elbow. "Here are your two men. One's going to lead a big life, while the other's chasing petticoats!" "You think the world of Andy, don't you, Doris?" "I'd think the universe of him if he'd give you a shaking." Vivien smiled, rose, came to the Nun, and kissed her. The Nun's lips quivered. "He's coming down at the end of the week," said Vivien. Her voice fell to a whisper. "He's not quite so patient as you think." With another kiss she was swiftly gone. The Nun sat on, gazing at Meriton High Street. Sally Dutton came out of the house and regarded the same prospect with an air of criticism or even of disfavour. "I think it's all coming right about Vivien and Andy," the Nun remarked. Sally turned her critical eyes on her friend. "Have you been helping?" "Just a little bit perhaps, Sally." She paused a moment. "I shall be rather glad to have it settled." The motor-car drew up at the door.