Shocked and perplexed, he looked for a moment at her writhing features, and put out his hand.
“Can it be possible that you so utterly misapprehend me? You surely can not doubt the earnestness of an affection which impels me to offer my hand and heart to you,—the first woman I have ever loved. Will you refuse—”
“Stand back! Do not touch me! Ah,—God help me! Take your hand from mine. Are you blind? If you were an archangel I could not listen to you, for—for—oh, Dr. Grey!”
She covered her face with her hands, and staggered towards a chair.
A horrible, sickening suspicion made his brain whirl and his heart stand still. He followed her, and said, pleadingly,—
“Do not keep me in painful suspense. Why is my declaration of devoted affection so revolting to you? Why can you not at least permit me to express the love—”
“Because that love dishonors me! Dr. Grey, I—am—a—wife!”
The words fell slowly from her white lips, as if her heart’s blood were dripping with them, and a deep, purplish spot burned on each cheek, to attest her utter humiliation.
Dr. Grey gazed at her, with a bewildered, incredulous expression.
“You mean that your heart is buried in your husband’s grave?”