Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. Small wonder she had learned to be self-reliant.
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