Dulwich was one vast mirror of her past life.  In Dulwich she was never living in the present.  She could not see Dulwich, she could only remember it.  One walk more in that ornamental park!  She knew it too well!  And the picture gallery meant Owen—­she would only see him and hear his remarks.  Her thoughts reverted to his proposal of marriage and her acceptance.  Not for the whole world!  Why, she did not know.  He had been very good to her.  Her ingratitude shocked her.  She shrugged her shoulders hysterically; she could not help it—­that was how she felt.

But Ulick?  Should she marry him and accept the Gods?  That would settle everything.

But a sense of humour solves nothing, and at that moment the servant brought her a small brown paper parcel.  It looked like a book.  It was a book.  She opened it.  Monsignor had sent her a book.  As she turned the leaves she remembered the parcels of books from Owen which she used to open in the same room, sitting in the same chair. Sin and its Consequences!  She began reading it.  On one point she was sure, that sin did exist....  If we felt certain things to be wrong, they were wrong; at least they were wrong for those who thought them wrong, and she had never been able to feel that it was right to live with a man to whom she was not married.  Everyone had a moral code.  Owen would not cheat at cards, and he thought it mean to tell lies—­a very poor code it was, but still he acted up to it.  She did not know how Ulick felt on such matters; his beliefs, though numerous and picturesque, supplied no moral code, and she could not live on symbols, though perhaps they were better than Owen’s theories.  Her mistake from the beginning was in trying to acquire a code of morals which did not coincide with her feelings.  But the teaching in this book did coincide with her feelings.  Could she follow it?  That was the point.  Could she live without a lover?  Owen thought not.  She laughed and then walked about the room, unable to shake off a dead weight of melancholy.  Though the Church was all wrong, and there was no God, she was still leading a life which she felt to be wrong; and if the Church were right, and there was a resurrection, her soul was lost.  She took up the book and read till her fears became so intense that she could read no more, and she walked up and down the room, her nerves partially unstrung.  In the evening she talked a great deal and rapidly, apparently not quite aware of what she was saying, or else her face wore a brooding look; sometimes it awakened a little, and then her eyes were fixed on Ulick.