His mouth suddenly tightened and his eyes flashed.
“Yes, and I’d love you so if you were broken and every trace of beauty gone. My love would be so warm and tender and true it would bring back the light into your eyes, the roses to your cheeks, and life even to your dead soul.”
“How strange the ways of God!” she exclaimed, through her tears.
He looked at her with yearning tenderness.
“But you are not old or broken, Ruth. You have grown more beautiful. This great sorrow has smoothed from your face every line of fretfulness and worry, and lighted it with the mystery and pathos of an unearthly beauty. It shines from your heroic soul until your whole being has come into harmony with it. I loved you in the past; I worship you now.”
She turned on him a look of gratitude.
“Worry and jealousy did exhaust me. I am glad you see in my face and form the change reflected from within. It is very sweet to me, this flattery you pour on my broken heart. I thank you, Morris. You have restored my self-respect and given me strength. It is an honour to receive such love from an honest man. You must not think ill of me if I tell you I cannot love you.”
“I’ll make you!” he cried, fiercely. “You cannot cling to the memory of a man so base and false.”
“He is my husband. I love him.”
King flushed with anger.