"As no doubt you are aware, I am very badly off now compared with the time--compared with some years ago." He was going to say "compared with the time I married you," but he forebore out of mercy. "I have little more than a hundred a year and this place rent-free; it is my own, but I cannot let it. I hope soon to be able to add to my income. If my anticipations are realised I may double my income; but at present I am very poor."
"And I am bankrupt," said she with passionate self-reproach, "in fortune, in appearance, and in reputation."
He held up his hand in deprecation of her vehemence.
"Understand me clearly. Mrs. Bramwell may not have any money, and may not be as remarkable for beauty as some other women. But recollect, she has no reputation, good or bad. She did not exist until this present interview began. The past can be of no use to us. I shall never refer to it again; you will never refer to it again. There may have been things in the life of Kate and Frank Mellor which each of them contemplates with pain. No pain has come into the life of Francis Bramwell during the two years of his existence. No pain can have come into the life of Kate Bramwell during the few minutes she has existed. It will be wisest if we do not trouble ourselves with the miseries of the Mellors. Do you understand?" he asked in his deep, full, organ-toned voice.
"I think I do," she answered. "You mean that we are to forget the past."
"Wholly, and without exception."
"And you will forget that you ever cared for me?"
"Entirely."
His voice was full and firm, but when he had spoken the word his lip trembled and his eyelids drooped.
He was walking softly up and down the room. She was sitting by the table in the same place as she had sat last night. Her arms hung down by her side, her head was bowed on her chest, her air one of infinite, incommunicable misery.