"Never mind me." "Was you ever in doubt, I mean?" "Never." "I don't ask for rudeness, but reason. There's nobody you can ask in my life, because they be all biased. I'm not thinking of myself--God judge me if I am. I'm just wondering this: Can I be the right down proper good wife Johnny deserves to have if I don't love him? And the question that's so hard is, ought I to marry him not loving him? Not because of my feelings, but because of his future. Think if you was him, and loved a woman as truly as he loves me, and you had to say whether you'd marry her and chance the fact she didn't love you, or, knowing she didn't, would give her up." "That's not how it is, though. Johnny don't know you don't love him. He don't know what you're feeling. I judge that by what he says, because he often drops in and talks openly, finding all on his side." "What would you do?" "If I wanted to marry a woman and she'd said 'yes,' but afterwards found herself mistook, I shouldn't love her no more." "Then you don't know much about love." "Very likely I don't." "It's a selfish thing. If I was in love, I'd be like Johnny--and worse. A proper tigress I expect." "Are you in love?" "No, I swear I'm not. Not with anybody. I've growed up, you see, since I said 'yes' to John. I was a child, for all my years, when I said it. Growing up ain't a matter of time; it's a matter of chance. Some people never do grow up. But I have, and though I don't know what it would be like to fall in love, I know parlous well I'm not, and never was. And it comes back just to what I said. Would it be better for Johnny to marry him not loving him, because I've promised to do so, or would it be better for him if I told him I wasn't going to? That's the question I've got to decide." "You'll decide right," he said. "And you don't want other people's views. You know." "I know what I'd like to do; but just because my own feeling is strong for telling him I won't marry him, I dread it. Of course he'll say I'm only thinking of myself." "You can't be sure what he'll say." "Yes, I can: I know him." "If he knew you didn't love him----" "He'd only say he'd larn me how to later. But he wouldn't believe it." "If you was to hold off much longer, he'd chuck you perhaps." "Never. I'm his life. He says it and he means it." "But to marry him would be your death?" She nodded. "Yes, I think." "Perhaps you're wrong, however." "Very likely. My first thought was to tell him how it was with me and leave it to him. But I know what he'd do. He'd only laugh at me and not take it serious, or let me off." "You are thinking for yourself then?" "I suppose I am." "It's natural. You've got your life to live." "Be sporting," she said. "Don't think of me and don't think of him. Put us out of your mind and just say what you'd do if you was me."