"I alone am to blame. I like you very much, I haven’t known you enough to love you, no matter how worthy you are of love. 70 <9> A MARRIAGE, PART II She dreamt of the inn they had stopped at after her suicide attempt, the flea-ridden hostel her husband had angrily toted her to after the incident at the country house. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. ” She replied. " With this praiseworthy determination, he was hastening down stairs, with the utmost rapidity, when he encountered a female, whom he took, in the darkness, to be Mrs. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. “You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings.
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