It would be well to do this thing for Geoffrey, and he would
always love her, and beyond that black curtain there might be something
better.
They said that it was sin. Yes, it might be sin to act thus for oneself
alone. But to do it for another--how of that! Was not the Saviour whom
they preached a Man of Sacrifice? Would it be a sin in her to die for
Geoffrey, to sacrifice herself that Geoffrey might go free?
Oh, it would be no great merit. Her life was not so easy that she should
fear this pure embrace. It would be better, far better, than to marry
Owen Davies, than to desecrate their love and teach Geoffrey to despise
her. And how else could she ward this trouble from him except by her
death, or by a marriage that in her eyes was more dreadful than any
death?
She could not do it yet. She could not die until she had once more seen
his face, even though he did not see hers. No, not to-night would
she seek this swift solution. She had words to say--or words to
write--before the end. Already they rushed in upon her mind!
But if no better plan presented itself she would do it, she was sure
that she would.
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