For a while neither of
us spoke, and when at last she tried to speak it was difficult to hear
her.
"I didn't mean to let go like that. I wouldn't have done it if you
hadn't said--you were sorry. You've no cause to be sorry for me. I'm
not worth it. I was crazy--to care as I cared. I ought to have known
gentlemen like him don't marry girls like me, but I didn't have the
strength to--to make him leave me, or to go away myself. And then one
day he told me it had to be a choice between him and the baby. He
seemed to hate the sight of the baby. He said I must send it away."
Swaying slightly, she caught herself against the side of the table
close to her, and again I waited. "She's a delicate little thing, and
I couldn't put her in a place where I didn't know how they'd treat her.
He told me it had to be one or the other--and I'd rather he'd killed me
than made me say which one. But I couldn't give the baby up. She
needed me."
"And then--" My voice, too, was low.
"He got mad and went away. I thought I hated him, but I can't hate
him. I've tried and I can't.
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