"What nonsense! You'll get a divorce. You must."
She straightened. Her head went back.
"I won't lie that way."
"I'll hit on some means," he boasted. "You belong to me."
"And I've found it out too late," she said, "and I don't believe I could have found it out before. Think of that, George, when it seems too hard. I had to be caught by my own rotten temper before I'd let you wake me up."
She drew a little away, and when he started forward motioned him back. Her face flooded with colour, but she met his eyes bravely.
"That was something. I will never forget that, either, but it doesn't make me feel—unclean, as I did that day at Oakmont and afterward. I don't want to forget it ever. Now you understand."
She ran swiftly to the door and opened it. He followed her and saw Betty at the farther end of the room talking to Mr. Planter.
"Why do you do that?" he asked, desperately.
"I want to tell you why I'll never forget," she answered in a half whisper. "Because I love you. I love you. I want to say it. I think it every minute, so don't you see you have to help me keep it straight and beautiful always, George?"