"I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. “You too sing?” he asked. Wasn’t easy, I can tell you. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “That is where I got confused,” he said. Instead, they lived a Bohemian existence, moving from patron to patron, city to city. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. Life’s hard enough nowadays for an unprotected male. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. I would have heard her.
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