When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. After all, this could never be the black sheep. She sat perfectly still, however. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again.
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