Part 42 (1/2)
”How can that be?”
”Because she's the one who realizes the truth.”
”But she's the one who went away.”
”Because of that. It's a miserable story, Peter.”
”You knew her intimately?”
”A great many years.”
”I think Covington said he had known you a long time.”
”Yes.”
”Then, knowing her and knowing him, was n't there anything you could do?”
”I did what I could,” she answered wearily.
”Perhaps that explains why he hurried back to her.”
”He has n't gone to her. He'll never go back to her. She deserted him, and now--he's going to make it permanent.”
”A divorce?”
”Yes, Peter,” she answered, with a little s.h.i.+ver.
”You're taking it hard.”
”I know all that he means to her,” she choked.
”She loves him?”
”With all her heart and soul.”
”And he does n't know it?”
”Why, he would n't believe it--if she told him. She can never let him know it. She'd deny it if he asked her. She loves him enough for that.”
”Good Lord!” exclaimed Peter. ”There's a mistake there somewhere.”
”The mistake came first,” she ran on. ”Oh, I don't know why I'm telling you these things, except that it is a relief to tell them to some one.”
”Tell me all about it,” he encouraged her. ”I knew there was something on your mind.”
”Peter,” she said earnestly, ”can you imagine a woman so selfish that she wanted to marry just to escape the responsibilities of marriage?”
”It is n't possible,” he declared.
Her cheeks were a vivid scarlet. Had he been able to see them, she could not have gone on.