“I suppose that I have my answer. You do not wish for a change. I understand. You wish to say by that, that you do not love me. If you did love me as I love you, you would wish for just that⁠—a change. You would be as eager as I for that wonderful, wonderful change that makes a new heaven and a new earth.”

This time Laura did not answer. There was a moment’s silence. Then Corthell said:

“Do you know, I think I shall go away.”

“Go away?”

“Yes, to New York. Possibly to Paris. There is a new method of fusing glass that I’ve promised myself long ago I would look into. I don’t know that it interests me much⁠—now. But I think I had better go. At once, within the week. I’ve not much heart in it; but it seems⁠—under the circumstances⁠—to be appropriate.” He held out his bared hand. Laura saw that he was smiling.

“Well, Miss Dearborn⁠—goodbye.”