"I really do. Don't send me away. I'm so out of breath, I cannot
say what I would all at once." She put her hand to her side, and
caught her breath with evident pain.
"I tell thee I'm not the man for thee," adding an opprobrious name.
"Stay," said he, as a thought suggested by her voice flashed across
him. He gripped her arm--the arm he had just before shaken off--and
dragged her, faintly resisting, to the nearest lamp-post. He pushed
the bonnet back, and roughly held the face she would fain have
averted, to the light, and in her large, unnaturally bright grey
eyes, her lovely mouth, half open, as if imploring the forbearance
she could not ask for in words, he saw at once the long-lost Esther;
she who had caused his wife's death. Much was like the gay creature
of former years; but the glaring paint, the sharp features, the
changed expression of the whole! But most of all, he loathed the
dress; and yet the poor thing, out of her little choice of attire,
had put on the plainest she had, to come on that night's errand.
"So it's thee, is it? It's thee!" exclaimed John, as he ground his
teeth, and shook her with passion.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263