"It was at everybody's expense. Marriage is what makes us civilized. If anybody injures marriage we all pay."
She was silent.
"If every dissatisfied wife should do what you did, could decent life go on? Wouldn't we all drop down a little nearer the animals?"
"Perhaps so," she said vaguely. But she was not following him. She had entered into this experience of sin, not by the door of reason, but of emotion; she could leave it only by the same door. The high appeal to individual renunciation for the good of the many, was entirely beyond her. Dr. Lavendar did not press it any further.
"Well, anyhow," she said dully, "I didn't get any happiness—whether it was at other people's expense or not. When David came, I thought, 'now I am going to be happy!' That was all I wanted: happiness. And now you will take him away."
"I have not said I would take him away."
She trembled so at that, that for an instant she could not speak. "Not take him?"
"Not if you think it is best for him to stay with you."
She began to pant with fear, "You mean something by that, I know you do
I Oh, what do you mean? I cannot do him any harm!"
"Woman," said Dr. Lavendar solemnly, "can you do him any good?"