"Am I? I don't know. But the worst of it was my selfishness—my fixed idea that her marrying me was the only salvation for her…. I never thought of giving her a chance of seeing other people—other men—better men—of seeing a tranquil, well-ordered world—of being in it and of it. I behaved as though my world—the fragment inhabited by my friends and family—was the only alternative to this one. I've been a fool, Rita; and a cruel one."
"No, only an average man, Kelly…. If I give you Valerie's address, would you write and give her her freedom—for her own sake?—the freedom to try life in that well-ordered world we speak of?… Because she is very young. Life is all before her. Who can foretell what friends she may be destined to make; what opportunities she may have. I care a great deal for you, Kelly; but I love Valerie…. And, there are other men in the world after all;—but there is only one Valerie…. And—how truly do you love her?"
"Enough," he said under his breath.
"Enough to—leave her alone?"
"Yes."
"Then write and tell her so. Here is the address."
She slipped a small bit of folded paper into Neville's land.
"We must join the others, now," she said calmly.
Annan had come up, and he and Ogilvy were noisily baiting Burleson amid shouts of laughter and a protesting roar from John.
"Stop it, you wretches," said Rita amiably, entering the little group. "John, are you never going to earn not to pay any attention to this pair of infants?"