n to everyone? How break a vow
she had thought herself quite above breaking? How make such a desperate
departure from all the traditions and beliefs in which she had been
brought up! But in the very nature of passion is that which resents the
intrusion of hard and fast decisions. . . . And suddenly she thought: If
our love cannot stay what it is, and if I cannot yet go to him for
always, is there not still another way?

She got up and began to dress for dinner. Standing before her glass she
was surprised to see that her face showed no signs of the fears and
doubts that were now her comrades. Was it because, whatever happened,
she loved and was beloved! She wondered how she had looked when he
kissed her so passionately; had she shown her joy before she checked him?

In her garden by the river were certain flowers that, for all her care,
would grow rank and of the wrong colour--wanting a different soil. Was
she, then, like those flowers of hers? Ah! Let her but have her true
soil, and she would grow straight and true enough!

Then in the doorway she saw her husband. She had never, till to-day,
quite hated him; but now she did, with a real blind horrible feeling.
What did he want of her standing there with those eyes fixed on
her--those forceful eyes, touched with blood, that seemed at once to
threaten, covet, and beseech! She drew her wrapper close round her
shoulders. At that he came up and said:

"Look at me, Olive!"

Against instinct and will she obeyed, and he went on:

"Be careful! I say, be careful!"

Then he took her by the shoulders, and raised her up to him. And, quite
unnerved, she stood without resisting.

"I want you," he said; "I mean to keep you."

Then, suddenly letting her go, he covered his eyes with his hands. That
frightened her most--it was so unlike him. Not till now had she
understood between what terrifying forces she was balancing. She did not
speak, but her face grew white. From behind those hands he uttered a
sound, not quite like a human noise, turned sharply, and went out. She
dropped back into the chair before her mirror, overcome by the most
singular feeling she had ever known; as if she had lost everything, even
her love for Lennan, and her longing for his love. What was it all
worth, what was anything worth in a world like this? All was loathsome,
herself loathsome! All was a void! Hateful, hateful, hateful! It was
like having no heart at all! And that same e