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Bennett, Arnold, 1867-1931

"The Price of Love"

She had not even realized that human nature
is chiefly made up of illogical and absurd contradictions. Thus
she left the house that Saturday morning gloomy, perhaps hopeless,
certainly quite undecided as to the future, but serene, sure of her
immediate position, and sure that Louis would act like Louis. She knew
that she had the upper hand, both physically and morally. The doctor
had called and done his work, and given a very reassuring report. She
left Louis to Mrs. Tams, as was entirely justifiable, merely informing
him that she had necessary errands, and even this information she gave
through her veil, a demure contrivance which she had adapted for the
first time on her honeymoon. It was his role to accept her august
decisions.
The forenoon was better than the dawn. The sun had emerged; the
moisture had nearly disappeared, except in the road; and the impulse
of spring was moving in the trees and in the bodies of young women;
the sky showed a virginal blue; the wandering clouds were milky and
rounded, the breeze infinitely soft. It seemed to be in an earlier age
that the dark colliers had silently climbed the steep of Bycars
Lane amid the dankness and that the first column of smoke had risen
forlornly from the chimney.


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