So weary of the wrong and ruth that mar our human life.
“Oh, God! give back—give back my child, if but one hour, that I
May tell her all my passionate love for once before I die!”
Arthur Varian was somewhat startled by Madame Ray’s emotion. He looked at her in gentle sympathy as she dashed the fugitive tears from her eyes.
She read his thoughts, and after a short silence said gravely:
“You are surprised at my emotion, and you think me a very mysterious woman. Perhaps you are even curious over my history.”
“You have read my thoughts,” he answered. “But, believe me, it is not vulgar curiosity, but the keen interest awakened by one so charming, we would fain know more.”
She acknowledged the pretty compliment by a grateful smile, and the words:
“I am tempted to gratify your wish by giving you a brief synopsis of my life.”
“I should be proud to be thus honored with your confidence,” he answered, gratefully and truthfully, for he found her most interesting, and guessed that some sad story lay masked behind the occasional pathos of her smile.