He said he was sorry; he said he hardly knew what he had said.
He said:
‘I had such a headache, and the pass-book was the last straw. I was awfully upset. I was a beast.’
‘Dear, dear Helen,’ he said suddenly, ‘you must forgive me. You don’t know what you are to me.’
I said, of course, that it did not matter. I said again that I was sorry; but I felt him still unkind.
I thought:
‘He does not love me for what I am. He wants me different all the time. What I have and could give him is of no use to him.’
That winter wore through somehow, as the last had done, and on January 31st came the announcement of ‘Unrestricted Submarine Warfare.’
Walter looked grim.
He said: