Temple, exhausted, resolved to leave his wife; their atrocious quarrels were killing him; he was still shaken by the furies of this morning’s disagreement when he returned home with bitter reluctance; difficult to get free of Sarah, but it must be done; Temple was resolved.
She met him in the sombre lane that led to their house, and clung to his arm in silence; she was repentant, no doubt, but Temple would not relent; he was mute and tried to shake her off, but she clung with great tenacity.
When they reached their home he found it full of commotion; out of a phantasmagoria someone told him that his wife had been discovered in the pond–“Suicide, poor thing!” and his brother whispered: “You’re free.”
But Temple grinned at the spiteful shape hugging his arm and knew he never could be free from Sarah.
