For an instant her eyes blazed.
"You never loved me," she said.
He smiled slightly.
"Do you think so?" he asked.
The anger died from her eyes and she spoke softly.
"I waited for the answer," she said; "waited months, and it did not come. Then I came back. We went out West. A divorce was very easy—and I married him. I owed him so much."
"Yes?"
"It was a mistake. I did not satisfy him. He thought me cold. We quarrelled, and he went to other women. He drank a great deal. I was much to blame, but I could not help it. I hated him. Then his uncle took my part and loved me—God bless him, he was a saint—and kind—oh, so kind. When he died he left me the money, and his nephew and I separated. I have not seen him since."
They were both silent. She could hear his heavy breathing, and her heart throbbed.
"It was all a mistake," she said. "My whole life has been a mistake. But there is no salvation for us who make mistakes."