Читать книгу Wintersmoon онлайн

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Then she saw, through her joy, the tears still standing in Janet's eyes.

"But you're happy about it, Mops darling, aren't you? You love him, don't you, and he loves you? It's all going to be perfect?"

"I don't know," Janet answered slowly. "Nothing's perfect ever, is it? And I don't love him. I love no one in the world but you. Perhaps it's a wicked thing I've done. It would be wicked if I didn't love him and he did love me. But he doesn't love me either. We were both quite honest about it."

"Oh, of course." Rosalind's voice was slow. "There's Diana Guard. I'd forgotten. But Diana doesn't care for him any longer. The whole world knows that."

"Yes, but he cares for her. The only one he's ever loved, and he will love her always, he said."

"Janet! Have you done this for me? Tell me—because if you have——"

"No, dear, of course not. A little for you perhaps, but a great deal for myself. I like him—better than any other man I know. And he likes me—better than any other woman except that one. I don't know that love's so important—not in these days. To be good companions is the thing. And I want to do something with my life. Here I am wasting away, getting old. I shall never love any man, not passionately as people mean by love. But I will be good to him and he will be good to me. And I can be of use to other people as well."