In a momentary fury she seized and tore in pieces the study which remained upon the easel. Men do not understand constancy as women do. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Ah, if I had written that!" "Don't you want to live?" "I don't know; I really don't know. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. It is so that I may marry an Englishman. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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