The Fruit of the Tree

by Edith Wharton

"To be without you—that's the only horror!"

"You're sure——?"

"Sure!"

"It's just the same to you...just as it was...before?"

"Just the same, Justine!"

"It's not for myself, but you."

"Then, for me—never speak of it!" he implored.

"Because it's not the same, then?" leapt from her.

"Because it's wiped out—because it's never been!"

"Never?"