“I want you as much as that.... I can’t bear the thought of sharing you ... of having you belong to any one else.”
“Oh ... I’ve belonged to no one for a great many years now ... not since Jack was born.”
He went on, hurriedly, ardently. “It would change all my life. It would give me some reason to go on.... Save for you.... I’d chuck everything and go away.... I’m sick of it.”
“And you want me for my own sake ... not just because I’ll help your career and give you an interest in life.”
“For your own sake ... nothing else, Olivia.”
“You see, I ask because I’ve thought a great deal about it. I’m older than you, Michael. I seem young now.... But at forty.... I’ll be forty in the autumn ... at forty being older makes a difference. It cuts short our time.... It’s not as if we were in our twenties.... I ask you, too, because you are a clever man and must see these things, too.”
“None of it makes any difference.” He looked so tragically in earnest, there was such a light in his blue eyes, that her suspicions died. She believed him.
“But we can’t marry ... ever,” she said, “so long as my husband is alive. He’ll never divorce me nor let me divorce him. It’s one of his passionate beliefs ... that divorce is a wicked thing. Besides, there has never been a divorce in the Pentland family. There have been worse things,” she said bitterly, “but never a divorce and Anson won’t be the first to break any tradition.”
“Will you talk to him?”
“Just now, Michael, I think I’d do anything ... even that. But it will do no good.” For a time they were both silent, caught in a profound feeling of hopelessness, and presently she said, “Can you go on like this for a little time ... until Sybil is gone?”