It was what I had thought, it did not surprise me, and yet I felt sick and giddy. It was some time before I could speak, and then I could only stammer out:
"And she promised to be his wife?"
My mother nodded.
No words can describe what I felt, for never until then did I realise how I loved her, or what pain it was for me to lose her.
"Do you love Ruth very much, Roger?" asked mother.
"Love her!" I cried, "love her! I would die for her."
"And she loves Wilfred, and would never be happy away from him."
I fought it down after a while; crushed all my envy, jealousy, and hatred—for hate did possess me for a time—and then turned to my mother again.
"Let Ruth and Wilfred be happy," I said, "I shall put in no claim, her happiness is more important than mine."
"They cannot," said my mother.