“And you?”
“I ... am old. But there is no question about me. I am thinking ... of you.”
She looked at him and he suddenly understood her. He understood her, but he writhed under so much frankness and at seeing life so honestly:
“No, no, Constance,” he mumbled.
“Think it over,” she said, gently. “If you like ... I will agree. Only ... let us do it quietly, Henri, ... let us do it, if possible, with something of affection for each other.”
Her eyes filled with tears. He was very much moved:
“No, Constance, no,” he mumbled.
“Henri, have the courage to be honest. Have the courage and do not be weak. Be a man. I am only a woman and I have the courage.”
“Constance, people ...”
“No, Henri, you must not hesitate because of people. If we cannot do it, it would be because of Addie. But I like to think that, if he understands, he will not suffer through it. He must not suffer through it: that would be selfish of him; and he is not selfish.”