She went on to me about his brutality—and it's true, Egisto is rather a savage. She's afraid of him, too—yet she wants him to take her back. I'm sure he won't, this time, however—so there it is."
"And what are you going to do, Nina?"
"I don't knows what to do," Nina confessed, and her capable face was dismally bewildered. "If she really is a misunderstood victim, and all that, one ought to help her, if possible. I don't see how I can say to her that I absolutely won't do anything. But the awful thing is, I'm afraid she's lying. If she isn't, it shows what a fearful mistake she made in the first place, putting herself at Egisto's mercy. If he suspects her wrongly now, it's because he knows about the other time. Oh, let's talk of something else—I've really got a headache from it all. And then her crying, and that perfume she wears! If you could see her room! Littered from top to bottom with trunkfuls of stuff—corsets on the table, stockings on the bureau, hats on the floor, cigarettes everywhere, and a thousand bottles and pill-boxes—heavens knows what she doesn't take. Her maid can't pick up things as fast as she drops them."
They talked of other things, but inevitably the subject of Edith came up again. Nina was preoccupied by it, in spite of herself.
"She's very pretty," said Teresa.
