. . But, all the same, what's
the use of your staying? I don't love you, and I'm never likely to.
I've told you long ago you're not the sort of woman to attract me
physically. You never did. You're more like a boy. Why should you
ruin your own life when there's nothing to gain by it? You will ruin
it, you know, staying on here with me. Every one thinks we're living
together. Have you heard from your parson?"
"Yes," said Maggie.
"What does he say?"
"He says I've got to go back at once."
"Well, there you are."
"But don't you see, Martin, I shouldn't go back to him even if I
left you. I've quite decided that. He'll never be happy with me
unless I love him, which I can't do, and there's his sister who
hates me. And he's just rooted in Skeaton. I can't live there after
Uncle Mathew!"
"Tell me about that."
"No," she said, shrinking back. "I'll never tell any one. Not even
you."
"Now, look here," he went on, after a pause. "You must see how
hopeless it is, Maggie. You've got nothing to get out of it. As soon
as I'm well enough I shall go off and leave you. You can't follow
me, hunting me everywhere.
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