She felt this some time before she could summon up resolution to go.
She was so much disappointed in this longed-for, dreaded interview
with Mary; she had wished to impose upon her with her tale of
married respectability, and yet she had yearned and craved for
sympathy in her real lot. And she had imposed upon her well. She
should perhaps be glad of it afterwards; but her desolation of hope
seemed for the time redoubled. And she must leave the old
dwelling-place, whose very walls, and flags, dingy and sordid as
they were, had a charm for her. Must leave the abode of poverty,
for the more terrible abodes of vice. She must--she would go.
"Well, good-night, Mary. That bit of paper is safe enough with you,
I see. But you made me promise I would not tell about it, and you
must promise me to destroy it before you sleep."
"I promise," said Mary hoarsely, but firmly. "Then you are going?"
"Yes. Not if you wish me to stay. Not if I could be of any comfort
to you, Mary"; catching at some glimmering hope.
"Oh no," said Mary, anxious to be alone.
Pages:
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497