He felt, suddenly, sunken there in his deep chair, passive and peaceful in the firelight, that it would be very easy to tell her. Why shouldn't she see it all and understand it all? He couldn't hurt her; it would be only a strange, a sorrowful picture to her; and to him, yes, there would be a relief in the telling. To speak, for the first time in his life--it would be like the strewing of rosemary on a grave, a commemoration that would have its sweetness and its balm.

ABOUT