He had assumed that the supreme issue had been decided by a polite
evasion; and his question had been innocent of all momentous meaning. He
merely wished to know how they were going to spend the day that was
before them, since they had to spend days, and spend them together. But
Anne's tense mind contemplated nothing short of the supreme issue that,
for her, was not to be evaded, nor yet to be decided hastily.

"Will you leave me alone," she said, "to think it over? Will you give me
three hours?"

He stared and turned pale; for, this time, he understood.

"Certainly," he said coldly, rising and taking out his watch. "It's
twelve now."

"At three, then?"

They met at three o'clock. Anne had spent one hour of bewilderment out of
doors, two hours of hard praying and harder thinking in her room.

Her mind was made up. However notorious her husband had been, between him
and her there was to be no open rupture. She was not going to leave him,
to appeal to him for a separation, to deny him any right. Not that she
was moved by a profound veneration for the legal claim. Marriage was to
her a matter of religion even more than of law. And though, at the
moment, she could no longer discern its sacramental significance through
the degraded aspect it now wore for her, she surrendered on the religious
ground. The surrender would be a martyrdom. She was called upon to lay
down her will, but not to subdue the deep repugnance of her soul.