“I have got that far.  Other things have contributed, but they are not the real things—­they might have been forgiven.  The fact that he had this disease, and made my child blind——­”

“Oh!  You found out that?”

“Yes, I found it out.”

“How?”

“It came to me little by little.  In the end, he grew tired of pretending, I think.”  She paused for a moment, then went on, “The trouble was over the question of my obligations as a wife.  You see, I had told him at the outset that I was going to live for my baby, and for her alone.  That was the ground upon which he had persuaded me not to see you or read any of your letters.  I was to ask no questions, and be nice and bovine—­and I agreed.  But then, a few months ago, my husband came to me with the story of his needs.  He said that the doctors had given their sanction to our reunion.  Of course, I was stunned.  I knew that he had understood me before we left Florida.”

She stopped.  “Yes, dear,” I said, gently.

“Well, he said now the doctors were agreed there was no danger to either of us.  We could take precautions and not have children.  I could only plead that the whole subject was distressing to me.  He had asked me to put off my problems till my baby was weaned; now I asked him to put off his.  But that would not do, it seemed.  He took to arguing with me.  It was an unnatural way to live, and he could not endure it.  I was a woman, and I couldn’t understand this.  It seemed utterly impossible to make him realize what I felt.  I suppose he has always had what he wanted, and he simply does not know what it is to be denied.  It wasn’t only a physical thing, I think; it was an affront to his pride, a denial of his authority.”  She stopped, and I saw her shudder.

“I have been through it all,” I said.

“He wanted to know how long I expected to withhold myself.  I said, ’Until I have got this disease out of my mind, as well as out of my body; until I know that there is no possibility of either of us having it, to give to the other.’  But then, after I had taken a little more time to think it over, I said, ’Douglas, I must be honest with you.  I shall never be able to live with you again.  It is no longer a question of your wishes or mine—­it is a question of right or wrong.  I do not love you.  I know now that it can never under any circumstances be right for a woman to give herself in the intimacy of the sex-relation without love.  When she does it, she is violating the deepest instinct of her nature, the very voice of God in her soul.’

“His reply was, ‘Why didn’t you know that before you married?’

“I answered, ’I did not know what marriage meant; and I let myself be persuaded by others.’

“‘By your own mother!’ he declared.

“I said, ’A mother who permits her daughter to commit such an offence is either a slave-dealer, or else a slave.’  Of course, he thought I was out of my mind at that.  He argued about the duties of marriage, the preserving of the home, wives submitting themselves to their husbands, and so on.  He would not give me any peace——­”