Sometimes he did not talk at all, utterly fagged by a strenuous day in
which he had accomplished precisely nothing. But the more transparent and
truncated and dull he grew the more spontaneous the "niceness" and almost
effusive courtesy of his wife. Insensibly she was veering to the family
attitude, but he had tagged her once for all and never saw it.
Until this moment, however, when Gathbroke had been jerked from his deep
seclusion within her ivory tower by Aileen's unwelcome news, she had never
had a moment of complete self-revelation....She knew instantly that she had
never loved her husband: he was not her mate and Gathbroke was. She had had
three years of rippling content and light enjoyment with Mortimer, they had
never quarreled seriously, and they had never taken their parts in one
moment of real drama.
If she had married Gathbroke they would have quarreled furiously, they
would have thrown courtesy and behavior to the winds often enough,
particularly while they were young, for neither would have been in the
least apprehensive of wounding the rank-pride of the other, and such mutual
and passionate love as theirs naturally gave birth to a high state of
irritability; they would have loved and hated and made constant discoveries
about each other...there would have been depths never to be fully explored
but always luring them on...and the perfect companionship.
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