I will bid you good day."
I moved towards the door, still keeping an eye on her, believing her
to be quite set in her fatuous refusal to hear reason. She still held
herself erect and defiant, and there seemed to be small hope of doing
anything with her. Then suddenly I saw symptoms of giving way. Signals
of distress were hung out in her quivering lip and the nervous
twitching of her hands. All at once she broke down and cried
passionately:
"No, no, no; you must not leave me--not like that. I cannot bear it; I
am too miserable, too agitated, too terrified. I have no one to lean
on but you. What shall I do? What shall I do?" And she collapsed into
a chair, weeping as if her heart would break.
The situation was awkward, embarrassing. At another time I might have
been puzzled how to deal with it, but this was a moment of supreme
emergency. A great crisis was imminent, the ruin of our scheme and the
downfall of our hopes were certainly at hand if I gave way to her.
Everything depended upon my action, and I knew that the only chance
of safety lay in the execution of my design.
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