be other
things, and they would all have to be weighed.... It wouldn't be easy.'

'No,' Betty said; 'I suppose not. So it's just as well, really, that it
can't come to that, that we can't take anything--not either of us, not
ever, because of all the things between.'

Then, all the things between growing with the words to insistence, Betty
mentioned some of them, impelled, now the barriers were so breaking, to
have everything clear.

'There are so many things.... There's all the money we owe. We must pay
it back.'

Prudence silently assented. She wondered how much the Crevequers owed
Warren Venables.

'There are c-crowds of other things,' the sad voice stammered
on--'everything, almost.... But you know it all. You have known it all
the time.'

Their eyes met and looked away. Prudence did not at all deny that she
had known it all the time.

'You've all of you known it all the time,' went on the dreary voice,
without anger, without hope. Anger had been spent before, on another of
those who had 'known it all the time.' (The passionate fires of the days
of reparation had burned resentment to ashes, and on these had dropped
the tears of pity and pain.) Hope there was none. 'But Tommy and
I--we've only got to know it lately, you see. We--we didn't understand
before. But we understand now. We understand why--why you wouldn't be
friends with us.'

Prudence looked away sadly. It was terrible to have to accept it all so,
denying nothing. She wanted to heal, but knew no way.

In the pause Betty took up a cigarette-case from Tommy's chair,
mechanically fingering it. Then abruptly she dropped it, and looked
defiantly up.

'But lots of people do that--the other sort--your sort!' she cried.

Imagination, in these days so morbidly alive, continually invented for
her attacks unthought of, and called out defence to meet what needed
none. For discrimination was of so new a growth.

Prudence said quickly, 'But I know--oh, I know! Please
don't!'--protesting, apologizing for the existence of this gulf, which
had so yawned to exaggeration. Such an over-recognition of it as that
last had implied hurt her more than what had gone before; it showed so
vividly how the Crevequers staggered under their new knowledge,
pitifully unsteady as yet on the fresh ground. She said presently,
having thought things over: 'If I have been horrid, and hurt you, I beg
your pardon. I am very sorry.'

'It's just you,' said Betty, 'out of all of you