The invitations to the wedding were actually written. It seemed to Melicent that her marriage was as final a thing as the fact that autumn follows summer. She was frightened, shaken.
"Surely," she faltered, "perfect confidence is a thing that comes by degrees?"
"I think it ought to come before marriage, don't you?" said Lance.
She felt as if he had opened an oubliette at her feet. How could she tell him what ought to be told? But evidently she must either do that or lose him. She firmly believed that, in his wholesome, out-of-doors life, were no dark corners concealed from her.
However far she was from passion, she liked Lance dearly. The idea of his contempt was extremely painful.
All her life she had prided herself upon her honesty!
And her attempt to assert her independence of spirit had led her into this impasse!
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE DISCOMFITURE OF OTIS
"We build with strength the deep tower-wall
That shall be shattered thus and thus.
And fair and great are court and hall;
But how fair—this is not for us,
Who know the lack that lurks in all.