Summary

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Desperate Remedies — 4. AFTERNOON (1871)

But I was too late.'
'But, Edward, what's that, what's that!' she cried, in an agony of reproach. 'Why did you leave me to return to her? Why did you write me that cruel, cruel letter that nearly killed me!'
'Cytherea! Why, you had grown to love--like--Mr. Manston, and how could you be anything to me--or care for me? Surely I acted naturally?'
'O no--never! I loved you--only you--not him--always you!--till lately. . . . I try to love him now.'
'But that can't be correct! Miss Aldclyffe told me that you wanted to hear no more of me--proved it to me!' said Edward.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Desperate Remedies — 4. AFTERNOON (1871)

At length Cytherea wandered alone into the conservatory. When in it, she thought she would run across to the hot-house in the outer garden, having in her heart a whimsical desire that she should also like to take a last look at the familiar flowers and luxuriant leaves collected there. She pulled on a pair of overshoes, and thither she went. Not a soul was in or around the place. The gardener was making merry on Manston's and her account.
The happiness that a generous spirit derives from the belief that it exists in others is often greater than the primary happiness itself.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy Desperate Remedies — 4. AFTERNOON (1871)

Manston was invariably kind. Well, the deed is done--I must abide by it. I shall never let him know that I do not love him--never. If things had only remained as they seemed to be, if you had really forgotten me and married another woman, I could have borne it better. I wish I did not know the truth as I know it now! But our life, what is it? Let us be brave, Edward, and live out our few remaining years with dignity. They will not be long.
Source: Wikisource

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