He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. Better come another morning. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life. “We parted— that night the best of friends. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth.
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