Helga's face flushed; she looked up at Oscar, and a mysterious thrill went through him. The great surprise had come indeed.
VI
Oscar slept badly that night. For two months he had been moving in a garden of dreams, where the odor of sweet flowers overpower the senses, but he was awake at last, and was being dragged to trial in a tribunal of his own creating. In that court of conscience he was both righteous judge and guilty prisoner, and through the long hours of broken sleep, when he saw his life and motives as by flashes of lightning, he asked and answered some terrible questions:
Is Thora's jealousy justified?
No, yes! That is to say--I may have neglected her--thoughtlessly neglected her.
Do you love Helga?
It isn't necessary to think that. I admire her--I admire her beauty, and her intellect, but----
Then you do not love her?
I love her society--I love to be with her; she is bright and brilliant; we have many interests in common.
Then if you do not love Helga, why not cut her off rather than see Thora suffer?