No, she could not, must not, do it. What, after all, was love? A mere emotion. She would go back with Denzil to England, and never see Felix again. The profound trouble which she now experienced would grow to be only a memory. Surely there lay the path of her duty. Perhaps, after all, it had been better had her leap for freedom landed her lifeless upon the railway lines at Deptford.
The reflections of Felix were even more somber. He knew Denzil. He knew him well, in and out. He felt sure that he would not release Rona.
The reasons for his refusal would be of the highest character. He would be quite sure that no good girl could ever be happy with a convicted felon, with a man with such a record as his unfortunate brother. He would deem her fancy for Felix a passing phase, and would carry her off, working upon her gratitude, using the claims he had upon her—and marry her to himself as soon as it could be done with decency, in order the sooner to efface the image of Felix from her heart.
And, after all, would not this be best? He looked longingly upon the grave profile of the girl beside him. He noted the fastidious curve of her mouth, the depth of expression in her eyes. Was it for him to imprison such a creature in Siberia?
What a mistress she would make for Normansgrave!
No. There was no chance of Denzil's giving her back. Her life was fixed. She was not his, she never had been, never would be. He had only these few minutes in which to realize her, these few minutes of agony and futile regret.
Was it not all absurd? Suddenly his heart rose up within him and shouted, and his passion mocked his sense of right and justice. Why bring her back to the man who would part them forever? She preferred him—he knew it. Why not tell the driver to turn his horses' heads, and dash away together into the unknown?
He felt the blood rush to his head, his heart began to beat with great slow thumps.
How much money had he? Enough to keep them for some weeks. He could communicate secretly with Vronsky, and tell him where they were, and as soon as Denzil had departed bring her back to Savlinsky.
That was surely the true way to cut the knot. Let him have courage, and take what was his own.