In the years since, she had believed herself to have worn her
love into friendship, to have beaten her passion into affection; but
every woman, even the most clear-headed, deceives herself in matters of
the heart, and now Helen knew what pitiful self-deception her belief
had been.
Over and over and over again has it been noted how great a part in
human life and action is played by trifles, and despite this constant
reiteration the fact remains both true and unappreciated. And yet it
is, after all, more exact to consider that the thing is simply our
habit of noticing the obvious trifles rather than the underlying
causes, as it is the straws on the surface of the current that catch
our eye rather than the black flood which sweeps them along. It was the
chance sight of the figure of the dead soldier which now broke down
Helen's self-control, but the true explanation of her outburst lay in
long pent up and well-nigh resistless emotions.
She turned toward her companion with a passionate gesture.
"It is no use," she broke forth, "I did wrong to come home. I should
have kept the ocean between us. I must go back."
Herman grasped the edge of the modelling stand strongly.
"Helen," he said, in a voice of intensest feeling; "We may as well face
the truth. We were wrong six years ago."
"Stop!" she interrupted piteously, putting up her hand.
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