"Doubly impossible now," she replied, half reproaching him.
"Yes; doubly impossible now. Is it not better that the truth should be spoken?"
"Oh, yes. I have spoken it—too plainly."
"And so will I speak it plainly. We cannot control our own hearts, Lady Desmond. It is, as you say, doubly impossible now. All the love I have had to give she has had,—and has. Such being so, why should I stay here? or could you wish that I should do so?"
"I do not wish it." That was true enough. The wish would have been to wander away with him.
"I must go, and shall start at once. My very things are packed for my going. I will not be here to have the sound of their marriage bells jangling in my ears. I will not be pointed at as the man who has been duped on every side."
"Ah me, that I was a man too,—that I could go away and make for myself a life!"
"You have Desmond with you."
"No, no. He will go too; of course he will go. He will go, and I shall be utterly alone. What a fool I am,—what an ass, that by this time I have not learned to bear it!"
"They will always be near you at Castle Richmond."