She made no direct reply, but continued: “Well, then, you thought I loved you, I suppose—”
He smiled again, revived his moustache, with a slight twist, and gave a hardly perceptible shrug. “You…ah…managed to produced the illusion…”
“Oh, well, yes: a woman can so easily! That’s what men often forget. You thought I was a lovelorn mistress; and I was only an expensive prostitute.”
~ Edith Wharton, New Year’s Day; from Old New York: Four Novellas
(photo: by Single Linds Reflex)
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