"Tell me, honestly, Mamma. Are you disappointed?"
She was silent, gazed at the placid sky.
"Would you rather have started a fresh life . . . away from Papa?"
She bowed her head, let it rest upon his shoulder:
"Addie," she said.
She made an attempt to pick her words, but her honesty was once more too strong for her:
"Yes," she said, simply.
"Then you would rather have had it so . . . for your own sake?"
"I would rather have had it so, yes."
They were silent.
"I had even pictured it . . . like that," she said, presently.
"Shall I speak to Papa again then, Mamma? If I tell him that you had already been thinking of it . . ."
"You believe . . .?"
"He will agree."
"Do you think so?"
"If it means the happiness of both of you . . ."
"Tell me what Papa said."
"I can't remember exactly . . . Only Papa thought . . . that not to see me for six months at a time would be more than he could bear."
"Is that all that Papa said?"
"Yes."
