“Your vacation?”
“We’ll call it that. I’ll go for a month—two months. And if I can come back, I’ll come. But I’m afraid.”
“My darling—my darling—if you can’t, you are to find happiness more worthily.”
He took her in his arms hungrily, sacrificially. That should have told her. But she was hungering for prohibitions, for demands upon her. There was no warmth in her, and he let her go.
At the door she lingered.
“Can you get someone to fill my place?”
“Yes—don’t worry about that. Just rest.”
“I’ve been happy here.”
“You’ve brought life with you.”
The door closed after her. She went down the staircase slowly, miserably.