Miss Warren even has her moments of doubt as to the flawless perfection of her own life: whether the path of duty in 1897 did not rather lie in the direction of a serious attempt to be a daughter to her wayward mother and reclaim her then, instead of going off at a tangent as the mannish type of New Woman, to whom applicable Mathematics are everything and human affections very little.

I suppose the truth, the commonplace truth is, that rather late in life, Vivien Warren has fallen in love in the old-fashioned way--How Nature mocks at us!--and now sees things somewhat differently.

At any rate, David and Vivie, fused into one personality, are going abroad for a protracted period ...

going out of your life, my dearest, for it is better so.

Linda has every right to you and Science is a jealous mistress.