Love and hatred

Laura Pavely did not raise her voice, but there was trembling pain, as well as an almostincredulous surprise, in the way she uttered the five words which may mean so much-orso little. The man whose sudden, bare avowal of love had drawn from her that low, protestingcry, was standing just within the door of the little summer-house, and he was looking awayfrom her, straight over the beautiful autumnal view of wood and water spread out beforehim. He was telling himself that five minutes ago-nay, was it as long as five minutes?-theyhad been so happy! And yet, stop-he had not been happy. Even so he cursed himself forhaving shattered the fragile, to him the already long perished, fabric, of what she no doubtcalled their "friendship."It was she-it always is the woman-who, quite unwittingly, had provoked the wordswhich now could never be unsaid. She had not been thinking at all of him when she didso-she had spoken out of her heart, the heart which some secret, sure instinct bade himbelieve capable of depths of feeling, which he hoped, with a fierce hope, no man had yetplumbed.... What had provoked his avowal had been the most innocent, in a sense the mostbeautiful, feeling of which a woman is capable-love for her child."The doctor says Alice ought to have a change, that she ought to go to the sea, for a littlewhile. I asked Godfrey if I might take her, but he said he didn't think it necessary." She hadadded musingly, "It's odd, for he really is devoted to the child."They had been walking slowly, sauntering side by side, very close to one another, forthe path was only a narrow track among the trees, towards the summerhouse where theywere now-she sitting and he standing. He had answered in what, if she had been less absorbed in herself and her ownconcerns, she might have realised was a dangerously still voice: "I think I can persuadeGodfrey to let her go. Apart from the child altogether, you ought to have a change." Andthen-then she had said, rather listlessly, not at all bitterly, "Oh, it doesn't matter aboutme!"Such a simple phrase, embodying an obvious truth, yet they had forced from him thewords: "I think it does matter about you, Laura. At least I know it matters a good deal to me, for, as of course you know by now, I love you.