Poor Beatrice, she was full of
precautions!
Let him who may imagine the effect produced upon Geoffrey by this
heartrending and astounding epistle! Could Beatrice have seen his face
when he had finished reading it she would never have committed suicide.
In a minute it became like that of an old man. As the whole truth sank
into his mind, such an agony of horror, of remorse, of unavailing woe
and hopelessness swept across his soul, that for a moment he thought his
vital forces must give way beneath it, and that he should die, as indeed
in this dark hour he would have rejoiced to do. Oh, how pitiful it
was--how pitiful and how awful! To think of this love, so passionately
pure, wasted on his own unworthiness. To think of this divine woman
going down to lonely death for him--a strong man; to picture her
crouching behind that gateway pillar and touching him as he passed,
while he, the thrice accursed fool, knew nothing till too late; to
know that he had gone to Euston and not to Paddington; to remember the
matchless strength and beauty of the love which he had lost, and that
face which he should never see again! Surely his heart would break.
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