Part 50 (2/2)
”Why?”
”To suggest such a thing,” she said, with a scornful laugh. ”You're mad.
You think that I....”
”Want to be unhappy all your life?”
”That I should consent to run away with you. I love my husband ... and my children ... and you imagine....”
”Yes,” he said, ”it was mad of me to suggest it. You love your husband, not me. You never allow me anything, not anything.”
”Nothing ... at all?” she asked, scornfully.
”Nothing ... that counts,” he retorted, hoa.r.s.ely, roughly.
She shrugged her shoulders:
”You men always want ... that. Our happiness does not always consist ...
of that.”
”No, but ... if you loved me ... entirely....”
”Johan!” she cried.
They crossed the bridge and entered the Woods.
”If you ever dare speak to me like that again....”
”Very well, I won't.”
”But you're always doing it.... We'd better not see each other at all.”
”Not see each other?”
”No.”
”I won't have that,” he said. ”I won't have that either.”
”And if I insist?”
”Even so.”
”You don't make me any happier by talking like that; you make me even unhappier than I am.”
”Oh, Tilly, I can't bear to see you unhappy!... What are we to do, what are we to do?”
”I don't know,” she said, in a dead voice.
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