This man before her, so
much older and maturer, counting the cost of his marriage with her in
the light of experience, and magnanimously, resolutely paying it--Kitty,
in a flash, realized his personality as she had never yet done, his
moral independence of her, his separateness as a human being. Her
passionate self-love instinctively, unconsciously, had made of his life
the appendage of hers. And now--? His devotion had never been so plain,
so attested; and all the while bitter, terrifying voices rang upon the
inner ear, voices of fate, vague and irrevocable.
She dropped into a chair beside his table, trembling and white.
"No, no," she said, drawing her handkerchief across her eyes, with a
gesture of childish misery, "it's all been a--a horrid mistake. Your
mother was quite right. Of course she hated your marrying me--and
now--now she'll see what I've done. I guess perfectly what she's
thinking about me to-day! And I can't help it--I shall go on--if you let
me stay with you. There's a twist--a black drop in me. I'm not like
other people."
Her voice, which was very quiet, gave Ashe intolerable pain.
"You poor, tired, starved child," he said, kneeling down beside her.
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