Her eyes filled with tears. He was very much moved:
"No, Constance, no," he mumbled.
"Henri, have the courage to be honest. Have the courage and do not be weak. Be a man. I am only a woman and I have the courage."
"Constance, people . . ."
"No, Henri, you must not hesitate because of people. If we cannot do it, it would be because of Addie. But I like to think that, if he understands, he will not suffer through it. He must not suffer through it: that would be selfish of him; and he is not selfish."
"No, Constance, no!" he protested again.
"Think it over, Henri," she repeated. "Think it all out. I shall think of Addie also. You know how passionately devoted I am to him. But . . ."
"Constance, it is all too late."
"But think it over, Henri."
"Yes, yes, Constance, I shall . . . I shall think it over."
"And, if we decide upon it . . . let us do it . . . let us decide to do it with something of affection for each other . . ."
"Yes, Constance . . . yes, with affection . . . You are nice . . . you are kind . . ."
He looked at her, his chest heaving with emotion; a haze dimmed the boyish glance of his eyes. She had meant to go, quietly, to leave him alone. She
