"Will it always be like this?"
But I could not help her. I turned to the picture I was working at, and
went on painting without a word. By-and-by she recovered herself, and
began to talk of other things.
I blamed myself afterwards. I ought to have let her tell me then; but I
had no notion of the truth. I only thought of her husband, and I
selfishly shrank from encouraging her to speak. Complaint seemed to be
beneath her. But I know now that she never wanted to make any complaint
of him to me. It was of her new acquaintance that she longed to tell
me. She had settled the difficulty with her husband without consulting
any one. She had returned to his house, and remained there as his wife,
nominally, and because he particularly wished that the world should
know nothing of the rupture. I believe that she had done it sorely against
the grain, and only because he represented that by so doing she would
save his reputation. But from that time forward she would accept nothing
from him but house-room, for she held that no high-minded woman could
take anything from a man to whom she was bound by no tie more sacred
than that of a mere legal contract.
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