“It was kind of you to come,” she said, with cold politeness.
Her tone chilled the reviving glow of his imagination, which already was beginning to picture gentle possibilities of their married life. He remained silent for some time. When he spoke again, it was in less genial accents.
“I am afraid, Minna, that in marrying me you have unwittingly made a tremendous sacrifice.”
“Not more than most women, I suppose.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
With much tact and delicacy he put her in possession of all the details of his recent interview. She said not a word until he had finished, but clenched her fingers on the arms of her chair and looked rigidly into the fire.
“I had an awful horror of this,” she said, in a toneless voice.
“It will make an enormous difference to you. God knows I realise it. But, after all, we shall not starve.”
She darted a quick, sidelong glance at him, then, with a shudder, put her hands before her face.
“I knew it would be woe and misery,” she said, “whilst we were walking away from that horrible registrar’s office. Oh, God! I wish it had never been!”