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I
ve
not
shrunk
from
speaking
of
it
.
Speaking
of
her
,
then
,
I
mean
.
It
seems
to
me
that
if
I
could
talk
to
you
about
her
I
should
know
better
She
broke
off
,
confused
,
and
he
questioned
:
What
is
it
you
want
to
know
better
?
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The
colour
rose
to
her
forehead
.
How
could
she
tell
him
what
she
scarcely
dared
own
to
herself
?
There
was
nothing
she
did
not
want
to
know
,
no
fold
or
cranny
of
his
secret
that
her
awakened
imagination
did
not
strain
to
penetrate
;
but
she
could
not
expose
Sophy
Viner
to
the
base
fingerings
of
a
retrospective
jealousy
,
nor
Darrow
to
the
temptation
of
belittling
her
in
the
effort
to
better
his
own
case
.
The
girl
had
been
magnificent
,
and
the
only
worthy
return
that
Anna
could
make
was
to
take
Darrow
from
her
without
a
question
if
she
took
him
at
all
.
.
.
She
lifted
her
eyes
to
his
face
.
I
think
I
only
wanted
to
speak
her
name
.
It
s
not
right
that
we
should
seem
so
afraid
of
it
.
If
I
were
really
afraid
of
it
I
should
have
to
give
you
up
,
she
said
He
bent
over
her
and
caught
her
to
him
.
Ah
,
you
can
t
give
me
up
now
!
he
exclaimed
.
She
suffered
him
to
hold
her
fast
without
speaking
;
but
the
old
dread
was
between
them
again
,
and
it
was
on
her
lips
to
cry
out
:
How
can
I
help
it
,
when
I
am
so
afraid
?
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The
next
morning
the
dread
was
still
there
,
and
she
understood
that
she
must
snatch
herself
out
of
the
torpor
of
the
will
into
which
she
had
been
gradually
sinking
,
and
tell
Darrow
that
she
could
not
be
his
wife
.
The
knowledge
came
to
her
in
the
watches
of
a
sleepless
night
,
when
,
through
the
tears
of
disenchanted
passion
,
she
stared
back
upon
her
past
.
There
it
lay
before
her
,
her
sole
romance
,
in
all
its
paltry
poverty
,
the
cheapest
of
cheap
adventures
,
the
most
pitiful
of
sentimental
blunders
.
She
looked
about
her
room
,
the
room
where
,
for
so
many
years
,
if
her
heart
had
been
quiescent
her
thoughts
had
been
alive
,
and
pictured
herself
henceforth
cowering
before
a
throng
of
mean
suspicions
,
of
unavowed
compromises
and
concessions
.
In
that
moment
of
self
-
searching
she
saw
that
Sophy
Viner
had
chosen
the
better
part
,
and
that
certain
renunciations
might
enrich
where
possession
would
have
left
a
desert
.
Passionate
reactions
of
instinct
fought
against
these
efforts
of
her
will
.
Why
should
past
or
future
coerce
her
,
when
the
present
was
so
securely
hers
?
Why
insanely
surrender
what
the
other
would
after
all
never
have
?
Her
sense
of
irony
whispered
that
if
she
sent
away
Darrow
it
would
not
be
to
Sophy
Viner
,
but
to
the
first
woman
who
crossed
his
path
as
,
in
a
similar
hour
,
Sophy
Viner
herself
had
crossed
it
.
.
.
.
But
the
mere
fact
that
she
could
think
such
things
of
him
sent
her
shuddering
back
to
the
opposite
pole
.