Judy's rather short nose went in the air. 'Luckily, it does not matter much what that sort of woman thinks,' she said. Sybil did not reply for a moment. 'You don't see my difficulty, then,' she said; 'my difficulty, my indecision, is that I am not certain whether she is right or not. Look at it this way: I was attracted by Mr. Bilton; I felt for him that which I believe in me does duty for love. I liked him and I admired him; I liked the fact that he admired me. Now, all the time that I liked and admired him this thing had happened. I liked the man who had done that. What difference, then, can my knowing it make?' Judy looked at her in surprise. 'If he had happened to be a murderer?' she said. 'I should not ever have liked him.' 'I don't know what to say to you,' said Judy, really perplexed. 'What you tell me is so unlike you.' 'I know it is. I have changed, I suppose. I think America changed me. What has happened? Is it that I have become hard or that I have learned common-sense? What I cannot make out is whether I would sooner have learned this or not. If I had not learned it, I should be now engaged to him; but, knowing it, shall I marry him?' 'Have you seen him since?' 'No. He has behaved very typically, very cleverly. He neither tried to see me again nor wrote to me. He has very quick perceptions, I am sure. I am sure he reasoned it out with himself, and came to the conclusion that it was better not to approach me in any way for a time. He was quite right; if he had tried to explain things away, or had even assured me that there was nothing to explain, I should have had nothing more to say to him. I should have told him that he and all that concerned him was a matter of absolute indifference to me. He has been wise: he simply effaced himself, and he has therefore made me think about him.' Sybil paused in front of the looking-glass, and smoothed her hair with an absent hand. Then she turned round again. 'You will see,' she said. 'He will follow me to England. I don't think you like him, Judy,' she added. 'My approbation is not necessary to you.' 'Not in the least; but why don't you?' 'Because I am old-fashioned--because we belong to totally different generations, you and I. I don't like motor-cars, either, you see; and a person's feeling for motor-cars is a very good criterion as to the generation to which he belongs.' Sybil laughed.