“How can I tell you,” she moaned. “My courage failed me. I couldn’t bear to leave my children. There were their little photographs staring at me so reproachfully from the dressing-table. For their sakes I must stay and bear with him. After all, he is their father.”
“Is he? I mean, of course he is.” How my brain was reeling with joy! At that moment I loved the terrible twins with a great and lasting love.
“Forgive you, Flora,” I said nobly. “There is nothing to forgive. I can only love you the more. You are right. Never must they think of their mother with the blush of shame. No, for their dear sakes we must each do our duty, though our hearts may break. I will go away, never to return. Yet, my dearest, I will always think of you as the noblest woman in the world.”
“And I you too, dearest. You shall be my hero, and I shall adore you to the last day of my life. Now go, go quickly lest I weaken; and don’t” (here she leaned closely to me), “don’t kiss me—not even once....”
“No, I won’t. It’s hard, hard—but I won’t. And listen, darling—if ever anything should happen to him, if at any time we should both find ourselves free, promise, promise me you’ll write to me. I’ll come to you though the whole world lies between us. By my life, by my honour I swear it.”
“I promise,” she said fervently. She looked as if she was going to weaken again, and I thought I had better get away quickly. A phrase from one of my novels came into my mind: “Here the brave voice broke.”
“Good-bye,” I cried. “Good-bye for ever. I shall never blame you, darling. Perhaps in another land I’ll find my happiness again. Then some day, when we both are bent and grey, and sentiment lies buried under the frosts of time, we’ll meet again, and, clasping hands, confess that all was for the best. And now, God bless you, Dora ... for the last, last time, good-bye.”
Here “the brave voice broke” beautifully; then slowly and with drooping head I made my exit from the room. Once in the street I drew a deep breath.
“To be over-sympathetic is to be misunderstood,” I sighed. “Well, I’ve given her a precious memory. Poor Mrs. Fitz!”
And, come to think of it, I had never kissed her, not even once.