“You will find her changed,” she said. “Mentally, I mean. Though she will try not to show it. She was dying for your sake—to set you free. Hilda seems to have had a talk with her and to have spared her no part of the truth. Her great love for you made the sacrifice possible and even welcome. It was the one gift she had in her hands. She was giving it gladly, proudly. So far as she was concerned, it would have been kinder to let her make an end of it. But during the last few days I have come to the conclusion there is a law within us that we may not argue with. She is coming back to life, knowing you no longer want her, that she is only in the way. Perhaps you may be able to think of something to say or do that will lessen her martyrdom. I can’t.”
They had paused where a group of trees threw a blot of shadow across the moonlit road.
“You mean she was killing herself?” he asked.
“Quite cleverly. So as to avoid all danger of after discovery: that might have hurt us,” she answered.
They walked in silence, and coming to a road that led back into the town, he turned down it. She had the feeling she was following him without his knowing it. A cab was standing outside the gate of a house, having just discharged its fare. He seemed to have suddenly recollected her.
“Do you mind?” he said. “We shall get there so much quicker.”
“You go,” she said. “I’ll stroll on quietly.”
“You’re sure?” he said.
“I would rather,” she answered.
It struck her that he was relieved. He gave the man the address, speaking hurriedly, and jumped in.