"
"But it offended you, Elfrida. It is what is accountable
for the--the rupture between us."
"Perhaps. But not because it hurt my feelings," Elfrida
returned scornfully, "in the ordinary sense. It offended
me truly; but in quite another way. In what you said you
put me on a different plane from yourself in the matter
of artistic execution. Very well. I am content to stay
there--in your opinion. But why this talk of forgiveness?
Neither of us can alter anything. Only," Elfrida breathed
quickly, "be sure that I will not be accepted by you upon
those terms."
"That, wasn't what I meant in the least."
"What else could you have meant? And more than that,"
Elfrida went on rapidly--her phrases had the patness of
formed conclusions--"what you said betrayed a totally
different conception of art, as it expresses itself in
the nudity of things, from the one I supposed you to
hold. And, if you will pardon me for saying so, a much
lower one. It seems to me that we cannot hold together
there--that our aims and creeds are different, and that
we have been comrades under false pretences. Perhaps we
are both to blame for that; but we cannot change it, or
the fact that we have found it out.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334