He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. Her soul was full of the sense of disaster. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. A lucky escape. But I trusted to that ring of yours. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. To perdition with them all.
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