Yet as often as she summoned herself to look the look or keep the silence which would put in train his declaration, it seemed as if she received from her depths a sudden and imperative mandate against it.
It was her long silence while she was pondering over these strange things which gave him a false cue and he entered to the center of her consciousness.
"This wasting of ourselves must go on until he dies?"
"The only way out is death," she said slowly, "or apostasy."
"Apostasy!" The word had an ugly sound even for him.
"I know one woman who did it for love of a man."
"And she is happy?"
Georgia did not answer at once.
"And she is happy," he repeated seriously, as if much depended on the question, "or not?"
"She says she is," she answered, "but I don't think so. She doesn't look happy—about the eyes—one notices those things. She seems changed—and—reckless and—and she's not always been faithful to her husband. I found it out."