Whatever you do you must do of your own volition, without pressure
from me. We couldn't be happy otherwise. If I compelled you to follow
me against your desire we should only drag misery in our train.
I couldn't even say good-by. I didn't want it to be good-by. I didn't
know if I could stick to my determination to go unless I went as I did.
And my reason told me that if there must be a break it would better
come now than after long-drawn-out bickerings and bitterness. If we
are so diametrically opposed where we thought we stood together we have
made a mistake that no amount of adjusting, nothing but separate roads,
will rectify. Myself I refuse to believe that we have made such a
mistake. I don't think that honestly and deliberately you prefer an
exotic, useless, purposeless, parasitic existence to the normal,
wholesome life we happily planned. But you are obsessed,
intoxicated--I can't put it any better--and nothing but a shock will
sober you. If I'm wrong, if love and Bill's companionship can't lure
you away from these other things--why, I suppose you will consider it
an ended chapter. In that case you will not suffer. The situation as
it stands will be a relief to you.
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