" As the mother, so
the wife. She said to herself now in sad paraphrase, "And though he loves
me little, yet he is my husband, and for what he is it may be that I am
in some sense responsible." Yet he is my husband! All that it was came to
her; the closed door, the drawn blinds; the intimacy which shut them away
from all the world; the things said which can only be said without
desecration between two honest souls who love each other; and that sweet
isolation which makes marriage a separate world, with its own sacred
revelation. This she had known; this had been; and though the image of
the sacred thing had been defaced, yet the shrine was not destroyed.
For she believed that each had kept the letter of the law; that, whatever
his faults, he had turned his face to no other woman. If she had not made
his heart captive and drawn him by an ever-shortening cord of attraction,
yet she was sure that none other had any influence over him, that, as he
had looked at her in those short-lived days of his first devotion, he
looked at no other.
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