Page:The Painted Veil - Maugham - 1925.djvu/94

 “We’re not going to get much further by saying disagreeable things to one another,” he answered.

She gave a cry of despair. It was dreadful that she should love him so devotedly and yet feel such bitterness towards him. It was not possible that he understood how much he meant to her.

“Oh, Charlie, don’t you know how I love you?”

“But, my dear, I love you. Only we’re not living in a desert island and we’ve got to make the best we can out of the circumstances that are forced upon us. You really must be reasonable.”

“How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realise that to you it was only an episode.”

“Of course it wasn’t an episode. But you know, when you ask me to get my wife, to whom I’m very much attached, to divorce me, and ruin my career by marrying you, you’re asking a good deal.”

“No more than I’m willing to do for you.”

“The circumstances are rather different.”

“The only difference is that you don’t love me.”

“One can be very much in love with a woman without wishing to spend the rest of one’s life with her.”

She gave him a quick look and despair seized her. Heavy tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Oh, how cruel! How can you be so heartless?”

She began to sob hysterically. He gave an anxious glance at the door.

“My dear, do try and control yourself.”

“You don’t know how I love you,” she gasped.