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me. No, he was simply a way of escape from the insufferable monotony of
my life."
I said nothing, and after a moment, she went on:
"
Don't misunderstand me. I was quite honest with him. I told him, what was
true, that I liked him very much, that I hoped to come to like him more, but
that I was not in any way what the world calls 'in love' with him. He declared
that that satisfied him, and so--we were married."
She waited a long time, a little frown had gathered on her forehead. She
seemed to be looking back earnestly into those past days.
"I think--I am sure--he cared for me at first. But I suppose we were not well
matched. Almost at once, we drifted apart. He--it is not a pleasing thing for
my pride, but it is the truth--tired of me very soon." I must have made some
murmur of dissent, for she went on quickly: "Oh, yes, he did! Not that it
matters now--now that we've come to the parting of the ways."
"
What do you mean?"
She answered quietly:
"
"
"
"
"
"
I mean that I am not going to remain at Styles."
You and John are not going to live here?"
John may live here, but I shall not."
You are going to leave him?"
Yes."
But why?"
She paused a long time, and said at last:
"Perhaps--because I want to be--free!"
And, as she spoke, I had a sudden vision of broad spaces, virgin tracts of
forests, untrodden lands--and a realization of what freedom would mean to
such a nature as Mary Cavendish. I seemed to see her for a moment as she
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