It is time for me to go.
As to this--" She handed him back the paper folded.
"You think it's only an attempt to heal the soreness of my
conscience, don't you?" he said after a time, shaking his head.
"It was; but it was more. Well, you can't put your image out of my
heart, anyhow. I've got that. So you're going to leave me now?
Soon? Let it be soon. I suppose it has to come."
"My own affairs require me. There is no possible tenure on which I
could stay here much longer. Not even Jeanne--"
"No," said he, at length, again in conviction, shaking his head.
"There isn't any way."
"You make it so hard," said she. "Why are you so stubborn?"
"Listen!" He turned, and again there came back to his face the old
fighting flush. "I faced the loss of a limb and said I couldn't
stand that and live. Now you are going to cut the heart out of me.
You ask me to live in spite of that. How can I? Were you ever
married, Madam?" This last suddenly.
"You may regard it as true," said she slowly, after long
hesitation.
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