"You have not forgotten the past, then, Clare?"
"No—but I have sought to love my husband as a wife should."
"Sought?" he asked, inquiringly.
"Well—I have striven."
"But oh, Clare, we can neither love nor forget at will," said he. "May I come to visit you?"
"No—decidedly no!"
"Why, Clare?"
"My husband!" she replied, firmly enough.
"He knows nothing of our past—he never heard of me. Think how dear we were to each other, Clare—how much we have to remember."
"All the more reason to study the art of forgetting," replied Clare, whose hot tears were falling fast now, "and to show the necessity for your not coming near our bungalow."