Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. I've taught him all he can do; and there isn't his fellow, and never will be again. ‘Never would he have gone to England. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. “Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. He's passed through some rough mental torture. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. \"But nothing is going to happen. Sheppard, passing her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look that made him shudder. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her.
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