"Alice, that is untrue. He does not; and you have seen clearly that it is so. It may be that he can love no woman. But another woman would give him a son, and he would be happy. I tell you that every day and every night,--every hour of every day and of every night,--I am thinking of the man I love. I have nothing else to think of. I have no occupation,--no friends,--no one to whom I care to say a word. But I am always talking to Burgo in my thoughts; and he listens to me. I dream that his arm is round me--"
"Oh, Glencora!"

"Alice, that is untrue. He does not. Maybe he can love no woman. But another woman would give him a son, and he would be happy. Every hour of every day and every night, I am thinking of the man I love. I have nothing else to think of. I have no occupation, no friends to talk to. But I am always talking to Burgo in my thoughts; and he listens to me. I dream that his arm is round me-"
"Oh, Glencora!"
