"I should have thought—"
Her face hardened. "I can't. Please understand that, Walter. I don't think I ever can, now. You've made everything so that I can't bear it."
She took the little vest from him and laid it with the rest.
And as he left her his hope grew cold. Her motherhood was only another sanctuary from which she shut him out. There was something so humiliating in his pain that he would have hidden it even from Edith. But Edith was too clever for him.
"Has she said anything to you about it?" he asked.
"Yes. Has she not to you?"
"Not yet. She won't let me speak about it. She's funnier than ever. She treats me as if I were some obscene monster just crawled up out of the primeval slime."
"Poor Wallie!"
"Well, but it's pretty serious. Do you think she's going to keep it up for all eternity?"
"No, I don't, dear. I don't think she'll keep it up at all."