No; I saw her, herself--the woman
within. I had known from the outset that there was an altar of love within
my temple of passion. I think that was my first real visit to it.
"Anita!" I said unsteadily. "Anita!"
The color flamed in her cheeks; we were silent for a long time.
"You--your people owe me nothing" I at length found voice to say. "Even if
they did, I couldn't and wouldn't take _your_ money. But, believe me,
they owe me nothing."
"You can not mislead me," she answered. "When they asked me to become
engaged to you, they told me about it."
I had forgotten. The whole repulsive, rotten business came back to me. And,
changed man that I had become in the last six months, I saw myself as I had
been. I felt that she was looking at me, was reading the degrading
confession in my telltale features.
"I will tell you the whole truth," said I. "I did use your father's and
your brother's debts to me as a means of getting _to_ you. But, before
God, Anita, I swear I was honest with you when I said to you I never hoped
or wished to win you in that way!"
"I believe you," she replied, and her tone and expression made my heart
leap with indescribable joy.
Love is sometimes most unwise in his use of the reins he puts on passion.
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