He was beginning to understand something of her nature; of the nature of the woman to whom love has come as a thief in the night.
He was beginning to perceive that she had, in her ignorance, been ready to entertain love without knowing what was entailed by entertaining him.
"If you would only trust me, all would be well." She almost leaped from her chair.
"Would it ?" she cried.

"Would all be well?
Would it be well with my soul?
Would it be well with both of us in the future?
Would it be well with my husband ?" He laughed.
"I know your husband," he said.
"And I know him, too," said she.

"He cares for me no more than I care for him, but he has never been otherwise than kind to me.

I think of him--I think of him.

I know the name that men give to the man who tries to make his friend's wife love him.