She had been quite convinced that an engagement with him and at last a marriage had exactly that quality of compromise which distinguishes the ways of the wise. “But your sister?” he asked. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. “You needn’t be anxious about that! I shall contrive to live. Doesn’t matter a bit to me. . ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. The water was cold but she waded deeper. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. “Just at present my mind simply won’t take hold of this at all.
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