you are not too much bored, that is. He. On the contrary, I thank you very much. She. For what? He. First, for your confidence in me; and second, for telling me an experience so like my own.[59] It was not the sea, but circumstances that delivered me over to myself,—a long, slow convalescence, in which I, too, had an interview with the Nemesis of truth, and found a carefully built structure of shams and self-deception go down as mist before the sun. The most frightful being in the world to encounter is one’s estranged better self. [59] She. That is true. No one but myself could have persuaded me that it was I who was to blame. The more I was argued with, the more I believed myself a martyr, and my husband— He. Your husband? She. I have betrayed myself. I am not mademoiselle, but madame. He. But I see no— She. No ring? True; I returned that to my husband before I went to Britany. He. And in Britany? She. In Britany I would have given the world to have it back again. He. But your husband? Did he accept it so easily? She. What else can a man do when his wife casts him off? He. Do? Oh, it is considered proper in such cases, I believe, for him to make a violent pretence of not accepting his freedom. She. You seem to be sure he considered it freedom! [60] [60] He. Pardon me. I forgot for the moment that you were his wife.
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