You found in
him all that I had denied you. And now I have the punishment I
deserve. You no longer love me. You love him."
"Oh--Oh--" Madeleine twisted her hands in her lap and stared at
them. "You--you--cannot help being what you are. I long since ceased
to find fault with you--"
"Yes, when you ceased to love me! When you found that we were
hopelessly mismated. When you gave up."
"I--I'm very fond of you still. How could I help it when you are so
good to me?"
"I have no doubt of your friendship--or of your fidelity. But you
love Masters. Can you deny it?"
"No."
"Are you preparing to elope with him?"
"Oh! No! No! How could you dream of such a thing?"
"I am told that every one is expecting it."
"I would no more elope than I would ask for a divorce. I may be
sinful enough to love a man who is not my husband, but I am not bad
enough for that. And people are very stupid. They know that Langdon
Masters' future lies here. If I were as wicked a woman as that, at
least he is not a fool. Why, only today he received the capital for
his newspaper."
"And do you know so little of men and women as to imagine that you
two could go on indefinitely content with the mere fact that you love
each other? I may not have known my own wife because I chose to be
blind, but a doctor knows as much about women in general as a father
confessor.
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