“No, God, no!” It was sudden panic. “I love her.”
“And she loves you,” evenly. “She’ll return, unquestionably—and in the future will go again as inevitably, unless you fulfil your contract. It’s life.”
Again Harry Randall stared straight before him, the weight of the universe suddenly on his shoulders. 206
“Fulfill—” he halted. “Supposing I can’t fulfill?”
“Wait. We’ll discuss that in a moment. First, you admit there was a certain justification for what she has done?”
No rebellion this time, no false pride.
“Yes,” simply; “you were right. I admit it.”
“The contract of implied happiness then; you failed because—”
Randall completed the sentence as was intended. “Because we could not live, cannot live, as Margery demands, upon what it is possible for me to make. There is absolutely no other reason.”
“She is extravagant, you think?”