"And you wanted the farm. I can't understand your going just when you've got it, when you've settled, in and when Jerrold took all that trouble to make it nice for you. It isn't like you, Anne."
"I know. It must seem awful of me; but I can't help it, Maisie darling.
I've got to go. You mustn't try and stop me. It only makes it harder."
"Then it is hard? You don't really want to go?"
"Of course I don't. But I must."
Maisie meditated, trying to make it out.
"Is it—is it because you're unhappy?"
Anne didn't answer.
"You are unhappy. You've been unhappy ever so long. Can't we do anything?"
"No. Nobody can do anything."
"It isn't," said Maisie at last, "anything to do with Jerrold?"