Jack Danby as long ago she had parted from Mr.
Terence O'Meagh of the Royal Leinster Fusiliers. It was typical of her
pride that, in order to rob Danby of any satisfaction in his
achievement, she should prefer to let him assume he was merely one of a
crowd, a commonplace incident in her progress. Anything seemed more
suitable to the fancy of such a despicable creature than the
self-congratulation of the pioneer.

Yet, though she bore herself so bravely from the hated room which had
witnessed the destruction of her inaccessibility, when she was seated
alone in the taxi whirring back to Camden Town, Jenny was very near to
an emotional collapse. This was averted by an instinct to review the
several aspects of the experience. The actual event, happening in the
normal course of a temperament's advance to completeness, scarcely
distressed her. On the other hand, the circumstances and actors were
abhorrent. The very existence of the Danbys was an outrage, and as for
Irene, her behavior was treachery incarnate. What added bitterness to
her meditations was the reflection that, however contemptuous she might
show herself of the two brothers, they, with Irene to voice their
absence, would have the laugh on their side. From one point of view it
had been a skillful seduction effected with the deliberation of use.
Jenny was maddened by the thought that Irene would believe she had been
unable to avoid it, that she had been bewitched by Jack Danby's
dissolute accomplishments. She would never be able to impress Irene's
stolidity with the fact that she had used Danby for her own purpose.
Irene would be bound to consider the wretched business a justification
of her own dependence on the elder brother. She would triumph with
damaging retorts, pointing out the fallibility of other girls when
brought beneath the Danby sway, citing Jenny in a manner that would
infuriate her with the impotence of argument. All larger issues were
obscured by this petty annoyance, and at first her regrets were confined
to wishing she had played the inevitable drama of womanhood in some
secret place with only her own soul for audience. Why had she stayed at
Greycoat Gardens last night?

After the first vexation of her loss of prestige, deeper commentaries
upon the act wrote themselves across her mind. She had intended, while
her mother was still alive, to be rigidly unassailable. There was
weakness in her failure to sustain this resolution, and Jenny loathed
w