She faced him. “Can’t you understand”—there was an edge on her voice—“I can’t bear any more of this? I’ve tried and tried to tell you, but you won’t understand. I can’t go on with this any longer.”
“Don’t get angry. I understand that. I am quite willing to do what you want. Really, you can please yourself.”
She said very intensely, “We must part.”
He slopped his drink on the mahogany top of the bar. “We must part?” he repeated. “You mean you don’t want me any more?”
“I tried so hard to tell you nicely, but you are so sure of yourself. You have always been so sure of yourself.”
“No, you have mistaken me if you think that. I have never been sure of myself, but I’ve been sure of you. It isn’t the same thing. I thought your love for me was as enduring as mine for you. You mustn’t say I was sure of myself. I trusted your love. I had to have something I need not doubt. Don’t you understand! With all this horrible chaos in the world, with lies and envy and sordid business, I hung on to the one thing I thought would never forsake me.”
She said, “I’m very sorry.”
“Of course”—he passed his fingers through his hair—“I know you are. When did it happen? Recently?”
She said: “Now I’ve told you I don’t want to talk about it any more.”
“You can’t leave it like that. I’m crazy about you. You know I’m crazy about you. Have I done anything that decided you?”