She was in one of her old walking-dresses, her hair was done in an unfamiliar manner, she wore a wedding-ring, and she looked as if she had been crying. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. "Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. " There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down to this, the inclination to confess. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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