They had left the gallery and were going through the park. His glance wandered often from her face to a glad contemplation of the vivid coloring of the woods.
“Mightn’t a man marry for honor?” finally he asked.
“Give me an example.”
“I am not trying to convert you,” he said, disclaiming all responsibility.
“Tell me of a case?”
His face contracted nervously. “Let’s talk about something else.”
With a little impatient gesture, “Oh, give me an instance, it will keep me from imagining things.” She stopped by a rustic seat with an independent lift of the head and would go no further. She felt that she deserved his confidence and trust. Upon her face were tears of pained emotion. She did not know her real place in his life and whenever she struggled for it her suffering was intense.
There was a pause. Glenn decided to humor her. Taking a seat beside her, he began in his tone of tranquil philosophy:
“Suppose a man—young—under an infatuation, becomes engaged to a girl. When he is older, his ideas change; he gets over it, she doesn’t. Although he has a sincere regard and respect for her, in his heart there is another ideal. He regrets being bound. What should he do?”
“I hate the word ‘bound.’ Marriage is not to bind, but to privilege. Without love it would be nothing more than slavery. Every human soul revolts at that.”