Here was
he--a refined, honorable gentleman--in a few weeks going to play false
to his every instinct, and take this woman whom he was growing to
despise--and perhaps dislike--into his arms and into his life, in that
most intimate relationship which, he realized now, should only be
undertaken when passionate calls of tenderest love imperatively forced
it. She would have the right to be with him day--and night. She might be
the mother of his children--and he would have to watch her instincts,
which he surely would have daily grown to loathe, coming out in them.
And all because money had failed him in his own resources and was
necessary to his ambitions, and this necessity, working with an appeal
to his senses when fired with wine, had brought about the situation.
God Almighty! How low he felt!
And he groaned aloud.
Then from a small dispatch box, which he had got his servant to put by
his bed, he drew forth a little gold case, in which for all these years
he had kept an oak leaf. He had had it made in the enthusiasm of his
youth when he had returned to London after Halcyone, the wise-eyed
child, had given it to him, and it had gone about everywhere with him
since as a sort of fetish.
Pages:
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320