Church Landscape in the Adirondacks painting

She gave him back all his kiss, but after a moment he felt her stiffening in his arms, and she put him aside and stood up.
``Ah, my poor Newland -- I suppose this had to be. But it doesn't in the least alter things,'' she said, looking down at him in her turn from the hearth.
``It alters the whole of life for me.''
``No, no -- it mustn't, it can't. You're engaged to May Welland; and I'm married.''
He stood up too, flushed and resolute. ``Nonsense! It's too late for that sort of thing. We've no right to lie to other people or to ourselves. We won't talk of your marriage; but do you see me marrying May after this?''
She stood silent, resting her thin elbows on the mantelpiece, her profile reflected in the glass behind her. One of the locks of her chignon had become loosened and hung on her neck; she looked haggard and almost old.
``I don't see you,'' she said at length, ``putting that question to May. Do you?''
He gave a reckless shrug. ``It's too late to do anything else.''
``You say that because it's the easiest thing to say at this moment -- not because it's true. In reality it's too late to do anything but what we'd both decided on.''