Rita looked at him pitifully: 

“Valerie’s mind is her own, Kelly.  It is the most honest mind I have ever known; and nothing on earth—­no pain that her decision might inflict upon her—­would swerve it a hair’s breath from what she concludes is the right thing to do.”

“I know it,” he said, swallowing a sudden throb of fear.

“Then what can I say to you?”

“Nothing.  I must wait.”

“Kelly, if you loved her enough you would not even wait.”

“What!”

“Because her return to you will mean only one thing.  Are you going to accept it of her?”

“What can I do?  I can’t live without her!”

“Her problem is nobler, Kelly.  She is asking herself not whether she can live life through without you—­but whether you can live life well, and to the full, without her?”

Neville flushed painfully.

“Yes,” he said, “that is Valerie.  I’m not worth the anxiety, the sorrow that I have brought her.  I’m not worth marrying; and I’m not worth a heavier sacrifice....  I’m trying to think less of myself, Rita, and more of her....  Perhaps, if I knew she were happy, I could stand—­losing her....  If she could be—­without me—­” He checked himself, for the struggle was unnerving him; then he set his face firmly and looked straight at Rita.

“Do you believe she could forget me and be contented and tranquil—­if I gave her the chance?”

“Are you talking of self-sacrifice for her sake?”

He drew a deep, uneven breath: 

“I—­suppose it’s—­that.”

“You mean that you’re willing to eliminate yourself and give her an opportunity to see a little of the world—­a little of its order and tranquillity and quieter happiness?—­a chance to meet interesting women and attractive men of her own age—­as she is certain to do through her intimacy with the Countess d’Enver?”

“Yes,” he said, “that is what must be done....  I’ve been blind—­and rottenly selfish.  I did not mean to be....  I’ve tried to force her—­I have done nothing else since I fell in love with her, but force her toward people whom she has a perfect right not to care for—­even if they happen to be my own people.  She has felt nothing but a steady and stupid pressure from me;—­heard from me nothing except importunities—­the merciless, obstinate urging of my own views—­which, God forgive me, I thought were the only views because they were respectable!”

He stood, head lowered, nervously clenching and unclenching his hands.

“It was not for her own sake—­that’s the worst of it!  It was for my sake—­because I’ve had respectability inculcated until I can’t conceive of my doing anything not respectable....  Once, something else got away with me—­and I gave it rein for a moment—­until checked....  I’m really no different from other men.”

“I think you are beginning to be, Kelly.”