“You don’t know what his worst is,” said Leonard. “He has got you in his power.”
“All right,” said Jack, coolly. “Let him exercise it to his uttermost.”
Leonard had never seen Jack like this.
“Listen to me,” he said. “If Moss does all he can do, he can expel you from any club in London, can make you an utter out-cast. Come, Jack, be reasonable.”
“I can’t be reasonable!” retorted Jack. “I am utterly ruined and undone. With Una everything that is worth living for has gone. I care nothing for Moss or anything he can do.”
CHAPTER XXXIV.
“In another hour he will be here,” said Una, as she stood at her dressing-room window, and looked out upon the lawns and park of Hurst, where they stretched down toward the road.
“Another hour!” and at the thought, a smile—yet scarcely a smile, but a suitable light like a sun ray stole over her face.
The great poet Tennyson has, in one of his greatest poems, portrayed a girl who, all unconscious of the bitter moments awaiting her, decked herself in her brightest ribbons to receive her expected lover.