Well, so he was, for the moment; but by weariness, not by religion. He had talked himself into exhaustion.
"You couldn’t do better," he went on. "I’m not selfish, not jealous. My wish is to see you happy, and you would be happy with Eddie. He’s a good man."
He was, in fact, so worn out after his outburst that he felt compelled to get rid of Angelica, not only for the present, but forever. He didn’t recognize the feeling. He was conscious only of a great desire to dispose of her, which he fancied was concern for her welfare.
"I want to see your life happy and blessed," he said. "I want to see you with your children about you, you with your beautiful Madonna face. I want always to be near you, but only to worship you. I will be your brother, your friend. I long to see this, Angelica!"
"No," she said, "I don’t want to. It wouldn’t suit me. I’m not so crazy about getting married, anyway."
"For me, Angelica! I beg you!"
"No, not even for you. I don’t want to, and that’s enough. I’m young, Vincent. I have all my life before me. You needn’t worry about me." A mortal weariness assailed her. "I guess I’ll go now," she said. "I’m pretty tired. Good night, Vincent!"
He kissed her solemnly on the brow and opened the door for her. She shut herself into her own room.
"Oh, Gawd!" she sighed. "Now what? This is getting too much for me. Can’t even think any more. I don’t know——”
She undressed and got into bed, though the sky had grown gray in the east. She felt obliged to sleep, even if it were only for an hour; but before she closed her eyes——