She stood, drawing him with silence and beauty.
At last he spoke: "I have made a foolish mistake, it seems.

I believed you were free." Her lips just moved for the words to pass: "I thought you knew.

I never, dreamed you would want to marry me." It seemed to her natural that he should be thinking only of himself, but with the subtlest defensive instinct, she put forward her own tragedy: "I suppose I had got too used to knowing I was dead." "Is there no release ?" "None.

We have neither of us done wrong; besides with him, marriage is--for ever." "My God!" She had broken his smile, which had been cruel without meaning to be cruel; and with a smile of her own that was cruel too, she said: "I didn't know that you believed in release either." Then, as though she had stabbed herself in stabbing him, her face quivered.
He looked at her now, conscious at last that she was suffering.

And she felt that he was holding himself in with all his might from taking her again into his arms.