Book II
32. Chapter XXXII.
(continued)
May met the question with her unshaken candour. "I
suppose because we talked things over yesterday--"
"What things?"
"I told her I was afraid I hadn't been fair to her--
hadn't always understood how hard it must have been
for her here, alone among so many people who were
relations and yet strangers; who felt the right to criticise,
and yet didn't always know the circumstances."
She paused. "I knew you'd been the one friend she
could always count on; and I wanted her to know that
you and I were the same--in all our feelings."
She hesitated, as if waiting for him to speak, and
then added slowly: "She understood my wishing to tell
her this. I think she understands everything."
She went up to Archer, and taking one of his cold
hands pressed it quickly against her cheek.
"My head aches too; good-night, dear," she said,
and turned to the door, her torn and muddy wedding-dress dragging after her across the room.
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