"The child's death is a calamity for which no one can be held responsible unless it is Adrienne herself," said Oldmeadow. While Barney sobbed he was thinking intently, for this was a turning-point in Barney's destiny. He would remain in subjugation to Adrienne's conception of the wrong done her or he must be enabled to regain the sense of innocence to which he had every right. "She forced the situation on you. She chose to break rather than bend," he said. "Listen to me, Barney. I don't speak in any enmity to your wife; but listen to me and try to think it out. Don't you remember how you once said that your marriage couldn't be a mistake if you were able to see the defects as well as the beauty of the woman you love. Don't you remember that you said she'd have to learn a little from you for the much you'd have to learn from her. Nothing more reassured me than what you said that night. And I was reassured the other day by your firmness. It implies no disloyalty in you to see the defects now. It was power over you she wanted the other day and to see herself put in the right, before me; and to see me worsted, before you. You know it, Barney; you know it in your heart. And she knows it too. There was no failure of love in what you said. There was only failure of homage. You were right in opposing her. She was wrong in the issue she made. She was wrong from the first of the miserable affair in having concealed it from you. If you'd stayed behind as she wanted you to do, you'd have shown yourself a weakling and she'd have been further than ever from knowing herself in error. There is the truth; and the sooner you see it, the sooner she will."
For some time after his friend had ended, Barney lay silent, his face still hidden. But his sobs had ceased. And his silence, at last, grew too long for any disclaimer to be possible to him. He had been brought, Oldmeadow knew it from the very rhythm of his breathing, to the passionless contemplation where alone truth is visible. And what he said at last was: "She'll never see it like that."
"Oh, yes, she will," said Oldmeadow. And he remembered Nancy's wisdom. "If you hold to it firmly and tenderly and make her feel you love her while you make her feel you think her wrong."