"It's my fault," she said. "It always has been."
"Angel, if you could lay everybody's sins on your own shoulders, you would."
"I mean it. You were right and I was wrong. Ah, how one pays! Only you've had to pay for my untruthfulness. I can see it now. If I'd done as you asked me, in the beginning, and told her the truth—"
"She wouldn't have married me. No, Edie. You're assuming that I've lived to regret that I married her. I never have regretted it for one single moment. Not for myself, that is. For her, yes. Granted that I'm as unhappy as you please, I'd rather be unhappy with her than happy without her. See?"
"Walter—if you keep true to her, I believe you'll have your happiness yet. I don't know how it's coming. It may come very late. But it's bound to come. She's good—"
He assented with a groan. "Oh, much too good."
"And the goodness in her must recognise the goodness in you; when she understands. I believe she's beginning to understand. She doesn't know how much she understands."
"Understands what?"
"Your goodness. She loved you for it. She'll love you for it again."
"My dear Edie, you're the only person who believes in my goodness—you and Peggy."