Explore "The Helpmate" by May Sinclair on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He did not know whether he believed what she had said, nor whether she believed it herself, neither could he understand her motive in saying it.
At intervals he was profoundly sorry for her. Pity for her loosened, from time to time, the grip of his own pain. He told himself that she must have gone through intolerable days and nights of misery before she could bring herself to say a thing like that. Her grief excused her. But he knew that, if he had been in her place, she in his, he the saint and she the sinner, and that, if he had known her through her sin to be responsible for the child's death, there was no misery on earth that could have made him charge her with it.