They
couldn't meet any more. There was nothing for them to say. They
had spent the last penny of their small change; there was nothing
left but gold. The day of love-tokens was past. They had now
only their hearts to give each other. And Emil being gone, what
was her life to be like? In some ways, it would be easier. She
would not, at least, live in perpetual fear. If Emil were once
away and settled at work, she would not have the feeling that she
was spoiling his life. With the memory he left her, she could be
as rash as she chose. Nobody could be the worse for it but herself;
and that, surely, did not matter. Her own case was clear. When a
girl had loved one man, and then loved another while that man was
still alive, everybody knew what to think of her. What happened
to her was of little consequence, so long as she did not drag other
people down with her. Emil once away, she could let everything
else go and live a new life of perfect love.
Marie left the stile reluctantly. She had, after all, thought he
might come. And how glad she ought to be, she told herself, that
he was asleep.
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