But it was a slip--an accident. I drank too
much, and it happened. I love you, Selma, with all my heart. I have
never been false to you in my affection."
"It is a strange time to talk of affection. I went away for a week, and
in my absence you insulted me by debauchery with a creature like that.
Love? You have no conception of the meaning of the word. Oh no, I shall
never live with you again."
Babcock clinched his palms in his distress and walked up and down. She
stood pale and determined looking into space. Presently he turned to her
and asked with quiet but intense solicitude, "You don't mean that you're
going to leave me for one fault, we being husband and wife and the
little girl in her grave? I said you don't understand and you don't. A
man's a man, and there are times when he's been drinking when he's
liable to yield to temptation, and that though he's so fond of his wife
that life without her would be misery. This sounds strange to a woman,
and it's a poor excuse. But it ought to count, Selma, when it comes to a
question of our separating. There would be happy years before us yet if
you give me another chance."
"Not happy years for me," she replied concisely. "The American woman
does not choose to live with the sort of man you describe.
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