tre.

"As I always says, if one man isn't enough for a woman, twenty aren't
too many."

The homeliness of this speech seemed to accentuate the moral truth, and
making application of it to herself, she felt that if she were to take
another lover she would not stop at twenty. Her face contracted in an
expression of disgust at this glimpse of her inner nature which had been
flashed upon her; and looking into herself she could discover nothing
but a talent for singing and acting. If she had not had her voice, God
only knows what she would have been, and she turned her eyes from a
vision of gradual decadence. If she were not to sink to the lowest, she
must hold to her love of Owen, and not yield to her love of Ulick. This
low nature which she could distinguish in herself she must conquer, or
it would conquer her. "If one man isn't enough for a woman, twenty are
not too many." The humble working woman who had uttered these words was
right.... If she were to give way she would have twenty and would end by
throwing herself over one of the bridges.

She felt that she must marry Owen, and under this conclusion she stopped
like one who has come face to face with a blank wall. But did she love
him well enough to marry him? She loved him, but was her present love as
intense as the love that had obsessed her whole nature in Paris six
years ago? She tried to think that it was, and found casual consolation
in the thought that if she were not so mad about him now as she was
then, her love was deeper; it had become a part of herself, and was
founded on such knowledge of his character that nothing could change or
alter it. She knew now that in spite of all his faults she could trust
him, and that was something; she knew that his love for her was
enduring, that it was not a mere passing passion, as it easily might
have been. He had given her fame, wealth, position--everything a woman
could desire. Some might blame him for having taken her away from her
home, but she did not blame him, for she knew that she could not have
remained with her father at that time. If she had not gone away with
Owen she might have killed herself; something had given way within her,
she had to do what she had done.

But did she love Owen, or was she getting tired of him? It was so easy
to ask and so difficult to answer these questions. However closely we
look into our souls, some part of the truth escapes us. One always
slurred something or exaggerated someth