"So that you'll see now that when—when everything is over about Teddy—you'll be—you'll be free."
"But suppose I don't want to be free?"
"But I want it for you."
"Why?"
"Oh, it's very simple." She turned, leaning with her back to the rock. "It's just this, Bob—I'm not fit to be your wife. I never was fit. I never shall be fit. There it is in a nutshell. It isn't education and social things that I'm talking about. I'm—I'm too—I don't know how to put it—but you're so big—"
"We'll drop all that, Jennie, if you don't mind, because it isn't a case of fitness on either your part or mine; it's one of love."
She hung her head.
"Oh, love! I—I don't think I—I know what it is."
"I'm sure you don't. It's what I've told you. I want to show you what it's like. Do you know what I said to the old lady when she got off those things? She didn't want to do it, mind you," he hastened to explain. "She wanted to keep your secrets and be true to you—but I dragged them out of her. And do you know what I said to her? Well, I'm going to repeat it to you now. I said I wouldn't believe anything against you—not even on your own evidence."
"Is that love, Bob—or is it just being stubborn?"