on't want you? I don't
want you, I tell you, and I wish you'd go away. You've done enough harm
as it is."

He rose and went to the foot of the bed and stood there, regarding her
somberly.

"What did you mean by that? What harm have I done you?"

She had flung herself down again.

"You _know_--you _know_," she moaned into the pillow.

"My God, I wish I did!"

Then he remembered.

"Unless--you mean--"

"You ought to know what I mean without my telling you."

"Well, if I do, you needn't cast it up to me. I married you right
enough, Vi."

"Yes, that's what you did. And that's why I hate you."

"It seems to me a queer reason. But, come to that, what else could we
do?"

She sat up, pulling herself together like a woman who had things to say
and meant to say them now.

"We could have done as I wanted. We could have gone on as we were."

"That's what you wanted, was it?"

"You know it was. I never asked you to marry me. I asked you not to. And
you _would_--you _would_. I didn't _want_ to marry you."

"And why didn't you want? That's what I'd like to get at?"

"Because I knew what it would be."

"Has it been so very bad then?"

She sat up straighter, wringing her hands as if she wrung her words out.
"It's been awful--something awful. All the things I don't like--all the
time. And it's made me hate the sight of you. It's made me wish I'd died
before I'd seen you. And I want to get away. I want to get out of this
horrid, hateful little house. I knew I would. I knew--I knew----"

"My God--if _I_'d known----"

"_You_? If _you_'d known! I wish to God you had. I wish you had just! If
that would have stopped you marrying me. Oh, you _knew_ all right; only
you didn't care. You never have cared. I suppose you think it's what I'm
made for."

"I don't follow. It may be all wrong. I'll allow it _is_ all wrong, all
the time. What I want to know is what's up now?"

"Can't you see what's up? Can't you think?"

He thought. And presently he saw.

"You don't mean to say it's--it's another?"

"Of course it is. What else have I been talking about?"

"Are you sure, Vi?"

He was very grave, very gentle.

"Sure? D'you think I wouldn't make sure, when it's what I'm afraid of
all the time?"

"Don't you want it? Have you never wanted it?"

"Want it? Want it? I'll hate it if it comes. But it won't come. It
sha'n't come. I won't have it. I won't live and have it. I shall die
anyway."

"Oh no, you won't," he said