She stopped but did not turn.
"No," she said, shaking her head. And again she dared to continue toward
the door.
"I shall not stand in your way," he said curtly, fearing only that she
would leave. "I will give you a divorce. I don't deny a woman's
liberty."
She turned, saying:
"Do you allow a woman liberty to know her own mind?"
"What do you mean?"
She came back until he almost could have touched her, standing looking
into his eyes with a wistful, searching glance, clasping and unclasping
her tense fingers.
"Jack," she said, "you never really cared."
"So it is all my fault!" he cried, snapping his arms together, sure now
that she would stay.
"Yes, it is."
"What!" he cried in a rage--already it was a different rage--"didn't I
give you anything you wanted, everything I had, all my time, all--"
"All but yourself," she said quietly; "you were always cold."
"I!"
"You were! You were!" she said sharply, annoyed at the contradiction.
But quickly remembering herself, she continued with only a regretful
sadness in her voice:
"Always cold, always matter-of-fact.
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