She wanted to shriek with laughter, to whistle her contempt of all that had made up her life hitherto, but the sound was stifled in her throat. She recollected in time that to snap her fingers at her past might precipitate a catastrophe, which would expose the misery of her position. To him she might only belong in dark, secret hours.
"And what have I to offer you in compensation?" he continued. "Nothing. My work is still in the clouds. I am not even sure of myself. And when I think of this last hour----" He broke off and turned his eyes away.
"Then you don't love me?" she said in a depressed tone.
He flung himself on her chair, so that kneeling on the cushions he could encircle her waist with his hands.
"My God! be merciful! You see what I am enduring; don't make it harder. I should always be repeating to myself, every day and every hour, 'Over in America there's a fellow working himself to death for her.... He doesn't write because he is ashamed to confess how his maimed body is standing in his way and bringing all his enterprises to naught' ... at least, I can think of no other reason for his silence--for no man could forget a woman like you. Meanwhile, I have stolen you from him, and sit here with you in my arms.... I don't know ... the idea of a man leading a profligate life does not shock me ... but to rob a poor hard-working cripple of his all ... I think the meanest scoundrel in creation would draw the line at that.... I know I shall never get over it, but"--he collapsed, hitting his head against the arm of the chair, and sobbed--"better to part now, at once, on the spot, than wait till it is too late for both of us."
The blow had fallen. Cleverly as she thought she had garbled her story, she was caught in her own net.
"You mean that you will--oh God!" she cried.
He got up. "Good-bye," he said, "good-bye, and thank you. Do not think too harshly of me."
"If I tell him the truth now, it'll only make him go all the faster," she thought, looking round her helplessly.
His hands were held out waiting for hers; his eyes drank her in, as if by so doing he could imprint her image on his heart for ever.