Part 76 (2/2)
”That infernal money!” says he violently.
There is almost a groan in his voice. His eyes are fixed upon her; he is wondering at her. What a child she looks in her pretty frock!
What an unreasonable child! But what a charm in the angry eyes of her, the defiance of her whole air! There is something that maddens him in the scornful shrug of her dainty shoulders.
”Oh yes--yes--of course!” says she, bringing the little disdainful shrug into full requisition now. ”No wonder you abuse it, poor thing! _But_ for that 'infernal money,' you would never have dreamed of marrying me, and now that it is gone--gone----” She pauses. ”Oh,”
sharply, ”I am _glad_ it is gone! It opens for me a way to leave you!”
Rylton strides forward, and seizes her by both her arms.
”Supposing I don't _let_ you go!” says he.
”I shan't ask your permission,” returns she calmly, submitting to his violent pressure without a wince--a pressure unmeant--unknown by him, to do him justice. ”And I need not! Think of the detestable life we have lived together! Don't I know that you hated it as much as I did--perhaps more! No,” softly. ”Not _more!”_
Rylton loosens his hold of her, and steps back. If she had said a thousand words, they could not have brought her meaning more forcibly home to him than these two, ”Not _more.”_
”Oh, think!” cries she, clasping her hands in a sort of ecstasy.
”To-day--this very day--in an hour or so, we shall be miles, and miles, and _miles_ away from each other! What more can you desire?”
Rylton brings his hand down upon the table before him.
”Nothing!” returns he hoa.r.s.ely. ”I would rather die than subject myself to the misery I have been enduring with you. I would, by heaven!”
”Ah, you speak the truth at last,” says she. ”Well”--she moves towards him and holds out her hand--”now that you have spoken, I am satisfied. Good-bye; I hope I shall never see you again!”
He thrusts her hand aside.
”I shall remember that,” says he.
”That was why I said it,” returns she. She has flung up her head, angered a little perhaps even in this desperate moment at his rejection of her hand. Her eyes are gleaming. Her beauty seems to s.h.i.+ne out--to grow upon him. Maurice regards her curiously even now--now, when she is going for ever. _How_ can so bitter a spirit dwell in so sweet a temple? ”Will you not say good-bye, then?” says she.
”No--never.”
She turns away deliberately and leaves the room.
CHAPTER XVIII.
HOW MARGARET STEPS INTO THE BREACH, AND LEARNS THAT ALL PEACEMAKERS ARE NOT BLESSED.
”It is quite the wisest thing to be done at present,” says Margaret.
”I do hope, Maurice, you will not object to the arrangement.”
She regards him anxiously. It is an hour later, and the carriage has been ordered to be at the door in fifteen minutes. Margaret has come to bid Maurice good-bye, and say a few words to him.
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