"Well, what has it to do with you? You had a letter from me yesterday, offering you an explanation. You have not even troubled to reply! Very well! I have done you an irreparable wrong. Our whole married life is shattered by my fault. Your attitude up to the present shows me that you never mean to forgive me.... Then what right have you to call me to account for what I do?"
She repeated, in a low voice, with fixed eyes:
"You intend to desert...."
"Yes."
"Is it really credible? I knew your ideas against war ... all the ideas in your books ... which agree with my own.... But I never thought of this.... You never spoke to me of it.... And then, no ... I could never have believed it...."
"You will have to believe it, for all that, Marthe."
He turned to the door. Once again she stood up in front of him.
"Let me pass," he said.
"No."