We are too different. I must ask you to release me,
and try to forget that there ever was such a foolish girl."
It was a suitable speech, but she was more angry than sorry, and
her voice showed it.
"Different--how--how--"
"I haven't had a really good education, for one thing," she
continued, still on her knees by the sideboard. "My Italian trip
came too late, and I am forgetting all that I learnt there. I
shall never be able to talk to your friends, or behave as a wife
of yours should."
"I don't understand you. You aren't like yourself. You're tired,
Lucy."
"Tired!" she retorted, kindling at once. "That is exactly like
you. You always think women don't mean what they say."
"Well, you sound tired, as if something has worried you."
"What if I do? It doesn't prevent me from realizing the truth. I
can't marry you, and you will thank me for saying so some day."
"You had that bad headache yesterday--All right"--for she had
exclaimed indignantly: "I see it's much more than headaches.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312