ad wanted to
kill him, yes, to kill herself--but how could he ever have believed that
she would stoop to another method of retaliation? As she stood before him
the light in her eyes still wet with tears--transfigured her.

"I love you, Janet," he said. "I want you to marry me."

"You don't understand," she answered. "You never did. If I had married
you, I'd feel just the same--but it isn't really as bad as if we had been
married."

"Not as bad!" he exclaimed.

"If we were married, you'd think you had rights over me," she explained,
slowly. "Now you haven't any, I can go away. I couldn't live with you. I
know what happened to me, I've thought it all out, I wanted to get away
from the life I was leading--I hated it so, I was crazy to have a chance,
to see the world, to get nearer some of the beautiful things I knew were
there, but couldn't reach.... And you came along. I did love you, I would
have done anything for you--it was only when I saw that you didn't really
love me that I began to hate you, that I wanted to get away from you,
when I saw that you only wanted me until you should get tired of me.
That's your nature, you can't help it. And it would have been the same if
we were married, only worse, I couldn't have stood it any more than I can
now--I'd have left you. You say you'll marry me now, but that's because
you're sorry for me--since I've said I'm not going to trouble you any
more. You'll be glad I've gone. You may--want me now, but that isn't
love. When you say you love me, I can't believe you."

"You must believe me! And the child, Janet,--our child--"

"If the world was right," she said, "I could have this child and nobody
would say anything. I could support it--I guess I can anyway. And when
I'm not half crazy I want it. Maybe that's the reason I couldn't do what
I tried to do just now. It's natural for a woman to want a child
--especially a woman like me, who hasn't anybody or anything."

Ditmar's state of mind was too complicated to be wholly described. As the
fact had been gradually brought home to him that she had not come as a
supplicant, that even in her misery she was free, and he helpless, there
revived in him wild memories of her body, of the kisses he had wrung from
her--and yet this physical desire was accompanied by a realization of her
personality never before achieved. And because he had hitherto failed to
achieve it, she had escaped him. This belated, surpassing glimpse of what
she esse