it is you've nothing to consider. You must save what you
can of your life; you mustn't lose it all simply because you've lost a
part. It would be an insult to you to assume that you care for the look
of the thing, for what people will say, for the bottomless idiocy of the
world. We've nothing to do with all that; we're quite out of it; we look
at things as they are. You took the great step in coming away; the next
is nothing; it's the natural one. I swear, as I stand here, that a woman
deliberately made to suffer is justified in anything in life--in going
down into the streets if that will help her! I know how you suffer, and
that's why I'm here. We can do absolutely as we please; to whom under
the sun do we owe anything? What is it that holds us, what is it that
has the smallest right to interfere in such a question as this? Such a
question is between ourselves--and to say that is to settle it! Were we
born to rot in our misery--were we born to be afraid? I never knew YOU
afraid! If you'll only trust me, how little you will be disappointed!
The world's all before us--and the world's very big. I know something
about that."

Isabel gave a long murmur, like a creature in pain; it was as if he were
pressing something that hurt her.

"The world's very small," she said at random; she had an immense
desire to appear to resist. She said it at random, to hear herself say
something; but it was not what she meant. The world, in truth, had never
seemed so large; it seemed to open out, all round her, to take the form
of a mighty sea, where she floated in fathomless waters. She had wanted
help, and here was help; it had come in a rushing torrent. I know not
whether she believed everything he said; but she believed just then
that to let him take her in his arms would be the next best thing to her
dying. This belief, for a moment, was a kind of rapture, in which she
felt herself sink and sink. In the movement she seemed to beat with her
feet, in order to catch herself, to feel something to rest on.

"Ah, be mine as I'm yours!" she heard her companion cry. He had suddenly
given up argument, and his voice seemed to come, harsh and terrible,
through a confusion of vaguer sounds.

This however, of course, was but a subjective fact, as the
metaphysicians say; the confusion, the noise of waters, all the rest
of it, were in her own swimming head. In an instant she became aware of
this. "Do me the greatest kindness of all," she panted. "I