"Why, he would n't believe it—if she told him. She can never let him know it. She'd deny it if he asked her. She loves him enough for that."
"Good Lord!" exclaimed Peter. "There's a mistake there somewhere."
"The mistake came first," she ran on. "Oh, I don't know why I'm telling you these things, except that it is a relief to tell them to some one."
"Tell me all about it," he encouraged her. "I knew there was something on your mind."
"Peter," she said earnestly, "can you imagine a woman so selfish that she wanted to marry just to escape the responsibilities of marriage?"
"It is n't possible," he declared.
Her cheeks were a vivid scarlet. Had he been able to see them, she could not have gone on.
"A woman so selfish," she faltered ahead, "that she preferred a make-believe husband to a real husband, because—because so she thought she would be left free."
"Free for what?" he demanded.
"To live."