"
Sometimes she resolved to tell her brother the whole story. He would
perhaps think better of Dr. Dunlap than he now did. Yet, on the
contrary, his implacable pride and sense of justice might drive him
directly out to kill the man she loved. And again she would burn with
rage and shame at Dr. Dunlap's condescension to a legal marriage. He was
willing.
"You are not willing," she would whisper fiercely at the night candle.
"You do not love me any more."
The old glamour again covering her, she would lie in a waking dream for
hours, living over their stolen life together. And she puzzled herself
trying to fit the jagged pieces of her experience, and to understand why
all these things should happen. The mystery to come is not greater than
the mystery which has been, when one lies on a dying bed and counts the
many diverse individuals that have lived in his skin and been called by
his name.
At other times, all she had lost of common good flashed through Maria in
a spark: the deeds to other souls; the enjoyment of nature, which is a
continual discovery of new worlds; the calm joy of daily life, that best
prayer of thanks to Almighty God.
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