She flushed, and he softened.
"Can't you see, Molly, that I hate the infernal humbug and the cruelty
of it all? That poor child had a dog's life before she married. She
did the only sane thing that was open to her. You've only got to look
at her now to see that she couldn't have done much better for herself
even if she hadn't been driven to it. What's more, she's done the best
thing for Greatorex. There isn't another woman in the world who could
have made that chap chuck drinking. You mayn't like the connection. I
don't suppose any of us like it."
"My dear Steven, it isn't only the connection. I could get over that.
It's--the other thing."
His blank stare compelled her to precision.
"I mean what happened."
"Well--if Gwenda can get over 'the other thing', I should think _you_
might. She has to see more of her."
"It's different for Gwenda."
"How is it different for Gwenda?"
She hesitated. She had meant that Gwenda hadn't anything to lose.
What she said was, "Gwenda hasn't anybody but herself to think of. She
hasn't let you in for Alice."
"No more have you."
He smiled. Mary did not understand either his answer or his smile.
He was saying to himself, "Oh, hasn't she? It was Gwenda all the time
who let me in."
Mary had a little rush of affection.
"My dear--I think I've let you in for everything. I wouldn't mind--I
wouldn't really--if it wasn't for you."
"You needn't bother about me," he said.
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