She had rushed across the room and was on her knees beside him.
“Lawrence!” she cried. “Dear Lawrence! Don’t give way! Don’t take it so hard! They say that bl—that people who can’t see are very happy. You’ll find other things—all sorts of other things—to interest you!”
“Be quiet!” he cried, sternly. “Don’t dare to tell me such things!”
He rose heavily to his feet and went over to the window.
“If it had come at once!” he said. “If everything had been blotted out at one stroke, I could have endured it.... But to see it coming on, to know what’s going to happen.... No!” he cried, suddenly. “I won’t stand it! I won’t try!”
For weeks Rosaleen had no other thought but to try to comfort him. She was glad to use what remained of her five hundred dollars to buy him the things he wanted. His tastes were luxurious, above all, in matters of eating and drinking; he liked quail or sweetbreads for breakfast, and for dinner exotic things of which she had never heard before. And he wished a glass of good white port every day with his lunch. And what he asked for she got, if it were in any way possible.
II
She made no attempt to explain to Landry her reasons for marrying Lawrence. It had been with her purely a spiritual matter, a valiant effort at consoling him. The material aspects of the thing didn’t trouble her; she didn’t even regard it as a sacrifice. She knew that she didn’t love him as she had loved Nick Landry; she had felt for him only that kindly affection she was ready to feel for any human creature. But she believed that in marrying him she would be doing something worthy, something of use; that she would be serving God.
Lawrence didn’t know this; he honestly believed that Lawrence Iverson, even if he were blind and penniless, was a brilliant match for Rosaleen.
They were married at City Hall, with no friend present except Miss Waters, who wept all the time, and they went back to the studio, to take up their joint life there without any sort of festivity, any celebration. Lawrence had said that he could not stand it, that he was in no mood for that sort of thing; but as a matter of fact, he was ashamed of Rosaleen. He would have been proud to be her lover, but he was ashamed to be her husband. He didn’t mention that he was married to anyone; there were no announcements sent out, no notice in the paper. No one sent a present, except Miss Waters; no one came to call upon Rosaleen.