" And yet I did. I allowed myself to be persuaded. I
tried to make myself think that it was to please Aunt Lilian; but down
underneath I knew all the time it wasn't that, really. It was because I
couldn't bear to do the things I'm accustomed to doing every day. I felt
as if I should cry, or scream, or do something ridiculous and awful
unless there were a change of some sort--any change, but if possible
some novelty and excitement, with people talking to me every minute.
Perhaps, too, there was an attraction for me in the thought that I would
be in Paris while Ivor was there. I kept reminding myself on the boat
and the train that nothing good could happen; that Ivor and I could
never be as we had been before; that it was all over between us for ever
and ever, and through his fault. But, there at the bottom was the
thought that I _might_ have done him an injustice, because he had begged
me to trust him, and I wouldn't. Just suppose--something in myself kept
on saying--that we should by mere chance meet in Paris, and he should be
able to prove that he hadn't come for Maxine de Renzie's sake! It would
be too glorious. I should begin to live again--for already I'd found out
that life without loving and trusting Ivor wasn't life at all.
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