"I know. I thought that too. I loved her at school as though she were something wonderful. She was like that."
"By Jove, she was," he said.
Though she knew him to be inarticulate, Muriel could imagine how the dancing flames again turned for him the rich silk of Clare's dress to the colour of very old dark wine. She could think of him seeing Clare's head uplifted proudly, and her white arms lying along the gracious flow and rhythm of her gown; she could feel his response to the gallant challenge of her youth.
"She's selfish—heartless as hell," half whispered Godfrey. "I was a fool."
"She's not. That's wrong and wicked." Forgetting herself, she slipped on to the hearth-rug and knelt there facing him, her eyes glowing, her small figure pregnant with the desire to save for him his dreams. "She's not selfish, nor were you a fool. She had an artist's temperament, swift and changeable. One should have seen—one should have seen. She did not understand you. She could not see what the Weare Grange meant for you. Look at her life—the publicity, the applause, the sunlight. She fed on the love and praise of people. It was her right. How could she come and bury herself in the country? How could she understand?"
He looked down at her eloquent face and her great shining eyes.
"Don't you see?" she implored him. "Don't you see you weren't a fool? It was inevitable that you should love her, seeing how beautiful she was. But it would have been wrong to try to make her your wife. You can't help yourself, any more than she can help being what she's like. Your wife must be quiet and controlled, understanding the ways of country life and the requirements of a house like the Weare Grange, valuing it as you value it, honouring its traditions. Over that at least, there must be no misunderstanding between you—and don't you see, however much Clare had wanted to, she couldn't understand!"
He looked at her, and slowly realization dawned upon his mind, clearer than resentment or self pity. "By Jove, you're right," he said. "She couldn't understand."
They did not speak again for some time. She, suddenly grown self-conscious, took advantage of her unconventional position to poke the fire, and then retreated to her chair.
At last he rose.