He
would, he must want her more than that other life, at the very thought
of which her face darkened. That other life so hard, and far from her!
So loveless, formal, and yet--to him so real, so desperately, accursedly
real! If he must indeed give up his career, then surely the life they
could live together would make up to him--a life among simple and sweet
things, all over the world, with music and pictures, and the flowers
and all Nature, and friends who sought them for themselves, and in being
kind to everyone, and helping the poor and the unfortunate, and loving
each other! But he did not want that sort of life! What was the good of
pretending that he did? It was right and natural he should want, to use
his powers! To lead and serve! She would not have him otherwise: With
these thoughts hovering and darting within her, she went on twisting and
coiling her dark hair, and burying her heart beneath its lace defences.
She noted too, with her usual care, two fading blossoms in the bowl
of flowers on her dressing-table, and, removing them, emptied out the
water and refilled the bowl.
Before she left her bedroom the sunbeams had already ceased to dance,
the grey filaments of light were gone. Autumn sky had come into its own.
Passing the mirror in the hall which was always rough with her, she had
not courage to glance at it.
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