I suppose I should thank you. But, do you know, I regret it; I
would rather have stayed at St. James all my life and kept that single
little delusion, longing. The premonition was nonsense, too; nothing
new, unexpected, can happen. Kisses are almost the oldest things in the
world, kisses and their results. What is there to be afraid of? You see,
I learned it all quite young.
"I am an imbecile; only it came so suddenly. You would laugh at me if
you knew what I was thinking. I can even manage a smile at myself." She
appeared older, the Mrs. Winscombe who had first come to Myrtle Forge;
her mouth was flippant. "The eternal Suzanna," she remarked, "the
monotonous elders or younger." He paid little heed to her words; the
coldness, the indifference, were fast leaving him. His heart was like
the trip hammer at the Forge. Yellow wine. He was still standing above
her, and he took her hands in his. She put up her face with a movement
of bravado, of mockery, which he ignored.
"I didn't choose it," he told her; "it's ruined all that I was. Now, I
don't care; there is nothing else. One thing you are wrong about--if
there had been another in your life like myself you wouldn't be here
with--as you are. I'm certain of that. It's the only thing I do know.
Pages:
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105