It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. All her pride raged at me. Or felt it. “Well, I do. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. ” “You are his first wife!” The pieces fell together for her instantly. At least I can give you a glimmer. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all.
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