“Can you tell me no more of her? That daughter that I might have had!”
“I do not understand her: she is beyond me, she baffles me.”
“I read of a man once who loved a woman too well to marry any one else, and yet he did not love her well enough to marry her.”
“Was he a fool?”
“Answer the question for yourself. Are you a fool?”
“Yes, I am. I do not know my own mind. I should call another man a fool.”
“It may not be too late,” she gently urged.
“Too late for what?” he asked irritably.
“To be wise.”
In a few moments he spoke in an abrupt, changed tone—