He dropped them as she approached,
and brushed the snow from his gloves. She took the arm he offered
her--timidly, and yet feeling that it was all in the world she had to
cling to. It was true--by that kiss she belonged to him, for it had made
her a traitor to all else on whom she had hitherto had a claim. Yet upon
how different a footing did they stand with one another from that which
she had prefigured to herself! This was he whom she was to have brought
vanquished to her feet! With one motion of his strong, masculine hand he
had swept away all her fine-spun cobwebs of opportunity and method, and
had laid his clutch upon the very marrow of her soul. But though she had
lost the command, she was party, if not principal, to the guilt. It was
he who had taken fire from her.
"You remember last summer," said he, "that night when an arch was in the
sky? We didn't understand one another then, and I didn't understand
myself. But, during the last day or two, I've been thinking it all over.
I've had too good an opinion of myself all along."
"What is it that you've been thinking?" asked Cornelia, feeling
repelled, and yet driven, by a piteous necessity, to know all the
contents, good or bad, of this heart which was her only possession.
Pages:
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346