Deep in her heart she felt that
divorce was wicked, for marriage to her had always meant a sacred
and unbreakable bond. And yet there seemed to be no alternative.
She wished Ed would go away--leave her quietly and for ever, so
that she might live out her empty life in seclusion--but that, of
course, he would never do.
Such longings were not strangers to Alaire; they were old and
persistent enemies; but of late the prospect of a loveless,
childless future was growing more and more unbearable. Even her
day dreams failed to give their customary relief; those imaginary
figures with whom she took counsel were strangely unresponsive.
She had told Paloma Jones about her dream-children, but she had
not confessed the existence of another and a far more intimate
creature of her brain--one who occupied the place Ed Austin should
have held. There was such a person, however, and Alaire called him
her dream husband. Now this man's physical aspect was never long
the same; it altered according to her changing ideals or to the
impression left by new acquaintances; nevertheless, he was in some
ways the most real and the most tangible of all her pale romantic
fancies.
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