“Yes, I did. But I did not understand.”
“No. Like many a woman, you got cause and effect mixed up: and you never troubled yourself to get it straight. Let me tell you, unless two people can come to each other without compromises and without explanations and without reservations, they would better never come at all. I don’t want you cheap, you oughtn’t to want me cheap. So how can it end any way other than the way it has? If it was my loss of fortune that made you chuck me, I oughtn’t ever to give you a second thought, for you wouldn’t be worth it. The fact you did, and that I do, hasn’t anything to do with it at all.”
“No.”
“And if you don’t think me able and disposed to play a man’s part in the world, you oughtn’t to care a copper for me, that is plain, isn’t it?”
“Yes, quite plain.”
“And the fact that you did, and that you do, has nothing to do with it—nothing in the world, has it, Helena?”
“No.” She must have been very pale, though I could not tell.
“Therefore, as logic shows us, my dear, and because we never did get our premises straight, and so never will get our conclusions straight, either—we don’t belong together and never can come together, can we?”
“No.” I could barely hear her whisper.
“No. And that is why, just before you came, I was trying to pull myself together and to advance as best an unhappy devil may, upon Chaos and the Dark! And that’s all I see ahead, Helena, without you—Chaos and the Dark.”