” “Two years ago,” she answered. “You see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going. The militiaman at once thrust the old man between the shoulder blades, pushing him into the kitchen. Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. “Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this husband of hers, the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? She hasn’t the right to do it. She had no inkling of that insupportable wrong. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality.
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