It never occurred to Septimus that he had done a quixotic thing in marrying Emmy, any more than to pat himself on the back for a monstrously clever fellow when he had completed a new invention.

At the door of the Registry Office he took off his hat, held out his hand, and said good-by.
"But where are you going ?" Emmy asked in dismay.
Septimus didn't know.

He waved his hand vaguely over London, and said, "Anywhere." Emmy began to cry.

She had passed most of the morning in tears.

She felt doubly guilty now that she had accepted the sacrifice of his life; an awful sense of loneliness also overwhelmed her.
"I didn't know that you hated me like that," she said.
"Good heavens!" he cried in horror.