Prev | Current Page 404 | Next

Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889

"The New Magdalen"

I managed to
swallow--I don't know how little, or how much. The stimulant had
a very strange effect on me. Reviving me at first, it ended in
stupefying me. I lost my senses once more.
"When I next recovered myself, the day was breaking. I was in a
bed in a strange room. A nameless terror seized me. I called out.
Three or four women came in, whose faces betrayed, even to my
inexperienced eyes, the shameless infamy of their lives. I
started up in the bed. I implored them to tell me where I was,
and what had happened--
"Spare me! I can say no more. Not long since you heard Miss
Roseberry call me an outcast from the streets. Now you know--as
God is my judge I am speaking the truth!--now you know what made
me an outcast, and in what measure I deserved my disgrace."

Her voice faltered, her resolution failed her, for the first
time.
"Give me a few minutes," she said, in low, pleading tones. "If I
try to go on now, I am afraid I shall cry."
She took the chair which Julian had placed for her, turning her
face aside so that neither of the men could see it. One of her
hands was pressed over her bosom, the other hung listlessly at
her side.


Pages:
392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 416