“Do you see a weary soul looking out?”
Herbert looked into his wife’s eyes for a moment and then stared down at the carpet.
“I used to see love looking out,” he said.
“It’s looking out now,” said Clare. “Love of life instead of discontent. Love of this great throbbing human nature, with so much to be put right. Love of poor people, and little children, and brave hearts. Madge Vernon taught me that, for she has a soul bigger than the suffrage, and ideals that go beyond the vote. I have blown the cobwebs out of my eyes, Herbert. I see straight.”
“How about me?” asked Herbert. “That’s what I want to know. Where do I come in?”
“Oh, you come in all right!” said Clare. “You are a part of life and have a big share of my love.”
“I don’t want to be shared up, thanks,” said Herbert.
She stroked his hand.
“I love you much better now that I see you with this new straight vision of mine. At any rate I love what is real in you and not what is sham. And I have learned the duties of love, Herbert. I believe I am a better wife to you. I think I have learned the meaning of marriage, and of married love.”
She spoke with a touch of emotion, and there was a thrill in her voice.