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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"Bressant"

This was the reality to which she was
awakened. And, lest this should not be sufficient, here stood one before
whom she had abased and humbled herself, whose insolence she had borne
meekly and lovingly, whose feet she had set upon her neck. Here he
stood, insolent and unfeeling still; a false impostor, whom might God
refuse to pardon!
And who and what was he? Oh, what punishment was terrible enough for
him? Surely--surely God would not allow him to escape! What was he?
These thoughts must have written themselves in the woman's eyes, which
were now awful to behold--eager, questioning, and malevolent. Bressant
forced a harsh laugh, as men will when they find themselves opposed by
impotent rage. Certainly Abbie had no other claim to be considered an
amusing spectacle. Had not her revengeful rage upheld her, she must have
swooned. But it was a hideous kind of vitality, unwholesome to
contemplate. Bressant laughed by main strength.
"You can't solace yourself even with that," said he, shaking his head.
"Up to three days ago I was as much in ignorance as you. It was no fault
and no concern of mine; you and Professor Valeyon chose to deceive
yourselves, and me. Nobody can be more innocent than I! Nobody can
regret more, on some accounts, that our relationship is no closer!".


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