She was still very young, still had years and years
of youth unspent. Surely she could find something
better than this. Surely life must mean something more
than this. At least it was worth a trial.
He held out his hand. She gave him her reluctant
and cold fingers. He said something, what she did not
hear, for the blood was roaring in her ears as the room
swam round. He was gone, and the next thing she
definitely knew she was at the threshold of Cyrilla's
room. Cyrilla gave her a tenderly sympathetic glance.
She saw herself in a mirror and knew why; her face was
gray and drawn, and her eyes lay dully deep within
dark circles.
``I couldn't do it,'' she said. ``I sent for him to
marry him. But I couldn't.''
``I'm glad,'' said Cyrilla. ``Marriage without love
is a last resort. And you're a long way from last resorts.''
``You don't think I'm crazy?''
``I think you've won a great victory.''
``Victory!'' And Mildred laughed dolefully. ``If
this is victory, I hope I'll never know defeat.
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