You did not marry her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not marry her because you had to. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. With her lived a Mrs. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed.
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