Page:E Nesbit - The Literary Sense.djvu/111

Rh "Not you!" he said. "You got what you wanted—money, money, money—the only thing I couldn't give you. If it comes to that, why didn't you come and see me? I hadn't gone away and left no address."

"I never thought of it."

"No, of course not."

"And, besides, you wouldn't have been there—"

"I? I sat day after day waiting for a letter."

"I never thought of it," she said again.

And again he said: "No, of course you didn't; you wouldn't, you know—"

"Ah, don't! please don't! Oh, you don't know how sorry I've been—"

"But why did you marry him?"

"To spite you—to show you I didn't care—because I was in a rage—because I was a fool! You might as well tell me at once that you're in love with someone else."

"Must one always be in love, then?" he sneered. "I thought men always were," she said simply.

"Please tell me."

"No, I'm not in love with anybody. I have