I have never
encouraged it, and my hands are clean of it. But I am sorry, sorry
beyond measure, and I repeat what I said before--seek out some other
woman and marry her."
"That is the cruellest thing of all the cruel things which you have
said," he answered.
"I did not mean it to be cruel, Mr. Davies, but I suppose that the truth
often is. And now good-bye," and Beatrice stretched out her hand.
He touched it, and she turned and went. But Owen did not go. He sat upon
the rock, his head bowed in misery. He had staked all his hopes upon
this woman. She was the one desirable thing to him, the one star in
his somewhat leaden sky, and now that star was eclipsed. Her words were
unequivocal, they gave but little hope. Beatrice was scarcely a woman to
turn round in six months or a year. On the contrary, there was a fixity
about her which frightened him. What could be the cause of it? How came
it that she should be so ready to reject him, and all he had to offer
her? After all, she was a girl in a small position. She could not be
looking forward to a better match. Nor would the prospect move her one
way or another.
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