"I understand now!"
said she. "Oh--it is--loathsome!" And her eyes blazed upon her mother.
"Loathsome," I echoed, dashing at my opportunity. "If you are not merely a
chattel and a decoy, if there is any womanhood, any self-respect in you,
you will keep faith with me."
"Anita!" cried Mrs. Ellersly. "Go to your room!"
I had, once or twice before, heard a tone as repulsive--a female
dive-keeper hectoring her wretched white slaves. I looked at Anita. I
expected to see her erect, defiant. Instead, she was again wearing that
cowed look.
"Don't judge me too harshly," she said pleadingly to me. "I know what is
right and decent--God planted that too deep in me for them to be able to
uproot it. But--oh, they have broken my will! They have broken my will!
They have made me a coward, a thing!" And she hid her face in her hands and
sobbed.
Mrs. Ellersly was about to speak. I could not offer better proof of my own
strength of will than the fact that I, with a look and a gesture, put her
down. Then I said to the girl:
"You must choose now! Woman or thing--which shall it be? If it is woman,
then you have me behind you and in front of you and around you. If it is
thing--God have mercy on you! Your self-respect, your pride are gone--for
ever.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229