There was a world of appeal in his voice, but now she had hardened her heart against him, and was unaffected.
“I love you body and soul, and if you only knew what your offer meant to me—a happiness so intense as almost to amount to pain. Since we first met, my whole object in life has been to win your love. During all our months of married life your indifference was a torture; but I was determined to be patient, for the ultimate reward was worth any sacrifice. And then came the baby. My hopes rose, and——”
“You tell me that you love me, and yet you refuse my request. You stultify yourself, John. Love that cannot make this little sacrifice is unworthy of the name.”
“Sacrifice,” he repeated vehemently. “There is no sacrifice that I would not gladly make for the happiness of which you have given me a glimpse.”
“John.”
Her face had softened wondrously, and she held out her hand towards him. It appeared to Gaunt that his wife had never been so beautiful, and the temptation to take her in his arms became maddening.
“John,” she repeated softly.
“Don’t tempt me, Mildred. You do not know what you are doing. If I were to accept, I should never know a moment’s happiness. My soul would be eternally damned, and I could never look into your eyes without feeling ashamed. No, I will play the game, and you shall have an honest man for husband, and not a poltroon,” he cried vehemently.
She realized that he was deeply moved and that the words were wrung from him, but she could not understand, and without understanding could give him no sympathy.
“Again this mystery, John. What does it mean?” she asked wearily. But he would not reply, but turned away to the window through which he stared moodily. The reaction had set in and he longed to be alone, for the sight of her tormented him, reminding him of what he was thrusting from his life.