“I would—I swear it!” she exclaimed, with sudden warmth and energy. “I will swear it on this sacred book.”
She laid her hands on a volume which was on the table before her.
“All this is very sad and painful,” he murmured. “You are respectably connected, without doubt.”
“Dear me, yes. Some day I hope to introduce you to my relations.”
“There will be time enough to think of that hereafter.”
“Ah, hereafter—you are right. It is the present, the miserable, hopeless present, I have to consider; and when I think of that I grow sick at heart. Tell me what I am to do—you are so good, so pure, and high-minded.”
She looked up into his face, and saw that he was deeply moved.
“Forgive me troubling you about my wordly affairs. I feel that I am inflicting pain upon you. Pardon, pardon me.”
She drew her hand across her eyes, and again regarded him with a glance which was at once supplicating, caressing, and voluptuous.
He quailed before the glance.