He entered the drawing-room. She was standing by the window looking at the sunset with large dreamy eyes. As he approached her, he thought her the most lovely of the daughters of Eve. And she was his wife!
She did not turn to greet him with a smile, but stood quite still, quite motionless.
He put his arm round her waist and drew her to him.
“Esmeralda, dearest!” he said, and there was love in his voice. “Are you happy—my wife?”
She turned upon him as if he had struck her.
“No!” she said.
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
“No!”
The word came direct from her breaking heart, but, because of its very intensity, it was low and subdued.