"I love her because I can't help myself.

I hate her because I ought never to have married her--never made a woman of her type the mother of my child." "All mothers are sacred," suggested the doctor quietly.
Hugh seemed not to hear him.
"How long is this pretence to go on, Lancaster ?" he demanded irritably.
"What pretence ?" "This pretence that nothing is changed--nothing altered--between my wife and myself ?" "For ever, I hope.

So that, after all, there will have been no pretence." But the appeal of the speech was ineffectual.

Hugh looked at the other man unmoved.
"It's no use hoping that you and I can see things from the same standpoint," he added stubbornly.

"I've made my decision--laid down the lines of our future life together.