This is a completely amoral tale. Timothy has, apparently, no conscience about his women. He has a perfectly good club woman, society wife in Connecticut, and dabbles in various other pools around about New York. There is Marcia, who eventually accepts marriage with a childhood flame as her lot; there is Madelaine, who furnished a Hollywoodish bouldoir on the same floor as the apartment she shared with her husband, and lived her ""love life"" there with Timothy; there is Averil, whose flame like quality would have been acceptable if he could have successfully gotten rid of Madelaine (and her husband). This isn't even a triangle story -- unless you bissected the triangle. But through it all Timothy is a charmer, and a naive, unsuspecting reprobate, who wins a bit of the reader's heart.